


Remembering Heaven

by StreetSolo



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Supernatural AU: Not Hunters, detective!dean, detective!sam, fallen!cas, legalguardian!dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-23
Updated: 2013-08-12
Packaged: 2017-12-12 19:12:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 22,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/815027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StreetSolo/pseuds/StreetSolo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Detective Dean Winchester is just doing his job when he suddenly finds himself taking care of Castiel, one of about a dozen people who inexplicably showed up on earth with no recollection of who they are or where they're from. At first Dean finds Castiel and his naïve nature creepy, but as Castiel begins to discover who he is, Dean finds himself inexplicably drawn to the angel in his care. But does Castiel feel the same way or does he have other things in mind?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“What is your name?”

“Castiel.”

“And where did you come from, Castiel?” 

“I don’t remember.”

“Okay, enough with the bull-“

“Will you just listen to me? I have been here over an hour with you asking me the same questions over and over again. If I didn’t know an hour ago, why would I suddenly know now?”

Detective Dean Winchester ran a calloused thumb against his chapped lower lip and he stared into the blazing blue eyes gazing back at him. They had found this man wandering the streets in a dirty trench coat in the rain, looking lost, confused, and in a daze. Thinking he was drunk or drugged or both, two officers approached him. Frightened, Castiel tried to run, which only made the officers suspect that he was hiding something. They gave chase, and eventually caught up and tased Castiel. They didn’t find any drugs in his pockets. They didn’t find any ID either. No driver’s license, no wallet, no credit card, no nothing. Castiel didn’t act like someone who had just been mugged, either. He was rational and forthcoming about where he had been, which included wandering from city to city, and what he had eaten, but he couldn’t tell them why he was out there or what he was looking for.

“Okay,” Dean said with a tone of familiar tone of finality. “I’ll give you an hour to sit here and think about that, and when you’re ready to tell me who you really are and what you’re up to, Castiel, then we’ll talk.”

“My answer’s not going to change,” Castiel called after him, but his response was cut short by the clang of the cold steel door. Castiel just sighed and rested his forehead on the knuckles of his thumbs, feeling the cold metal table beneath his hands. He felt like he had some sort of purpose, some sort of mission that he was supposed to accomplish, but he couldn’t remember what that was or how he would go about doing it. He tried to push through his mind, think as far back as his memory would allow him to, but he couldn’t think of anything. There was just blank nothingness where his memory should have been.

Outside, Dean was flipping open his cell phone to call his brother, Sam. Sam also worked as a detective in the area, and they often worked cases together. 

“Hey, Dean, what’d you find?” Sam asked, getting down to business as usual.

“Another one of those creepy Children of the Corn kids,” Dean grunted into the phone. “No clue who they are, where they came from, they’re just out there on the streets with nothing but a name.”

“How many does that make now?” Sam asked. “Eight?”

“I don’t know, Sammy,” Dean replied, as he noticed his superior, Agent Hendrickson, walking towards him. “Hey, I got to go. Call you later,” he said as he flipped his phone shut. 

“So what’s the deal with this one?” Hendrickson asked, looking from Dean to the containment cell behind him. “Just a name, no clue where he is or where he’s from?”

“That’s what it looks like,” Dean admitted. “I’m trying to get something out of him, but he’s not saying shit. You think this is some sort of hoax or something?”

“If it’s a hoax it’s a damn good one,” Hendrickson replied, handing Dean a sheet of paper. 

“What’s this?” Dean asked, as he briefly glanced down at the paper in front of him. 

“We couldn’t find anyone matching their descriptions in the missing persons database and their DNA doesn’t match anyone in our database either.”

“So what are you saying?” Dean asked, his brow knotting. “That these guys just popped up onto the streets and started walking around? Where did they come from?”

“Your guess is as good as mine, Winchester,” Hendrickson replied. “But look, we got no one claiming them and we got nowhere to put these guys. We’re thinking that if we have some of our own looking after them, they may open up to tell us where they are and where they came from.”

“Seems like a long shot,” Dean murmured. 

“Yeah, well that’s all we have right now,” Hendrickson answered curtly. “And that guy in there? Castiel? He’s under your charge now.” Dean just stood there and blinked as a manila envelope was shoved into his hand containing what little information they could find on Castiel. 

“I’m sorry, what?” Dean asked. “I’m not, I can’t-“

“You will keep an updated report on him,” Hendrickson explained. “Keep a log of his habits. What he does, where he goes, make sure he stays with you at all times. Eventually something will let slip about where he came from.”

“I can’t take him in,” Dean insisted. “I live with my brother, he-“

“Sam, yeah, he can help,” Hendrickson replied, shooting him a pointed look. “Dean, this isn’t a choice. I’m sorry.” 

“Okay, just hold on-“ Dean said, but Hendrickson was already walking away. Dean sighed, running a hand through his wavy brown hair. “Great,” he muttered to himself under his breath. 

He turned and walked back into the room where Castiel was waiting. Castiel looked up at him, those brilliant blue eyes gleaming. “I’m sorry, Detective, but I don’t think that was quite an hour yet. Or is my perception of time wrong as well?” He narrowed his eyes, as if challenging Dean. Dean just stood there, dumbfounded for a moment, unsure of what to say next.

“Um, you like pie?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm going to be posting short chapters every 2 - 3 days or so, depending on my work schedule. Just wanted to keep you guys updated and let you know that I WILL finish this story and not disappear on you. =)
> 
> Oh, and I'm new to this site but I really appreciate the kudos! Hopefully you guys will love the next coming chapters as well!

As it turns out, Castiel did like pie. And burgers. Dean had taken him to his favorite diner called the Roadhouse a few blocks away from the station. The name was taken from a bar that came before it that burned to the ground a few years back due to an electrical fire. Or so they say. 

The Roadhouse had the second best burgers in town, but they also had the best pie, which made it an easy way to pick favorites in Dean’s mind. As he watched Castiel tear into his own burger, his eyes squinting as he opened his mouth wide to pull an enormous chunk of meat into his mouth, Dean couldn’t help but feel a soft smile rise to his lips that touched his eyes. It was a gentle smile, a kind smile, and one that Castiel noticed immediately. 

“Are you mocking me?” Castiel asked through a mouthful of food. A tiny speck of grease dripped from the corner of his mouth onto the lapel of his trench coat. 

“No, no,” Dean said a bit uneasily. “They’re just uh, they’re good, aren’t they?”

“I’m starving,” Castiel muttered, ripping through another bite of his burger. 

“Uh-huh,” Dean murmured. “So you know, you can just tell me where you came from and what you’re up to and we can take you back to the mothership or wherever you’re from, okay?” 

Castiel ignored him and popped the final piece of burger in his mouth, his eyes starring to a flickering street sign in the window of one of the stores across the street. He watched the “O” in “OPEN” flicker a few times, before resuming its steady neon green hum. 

“Cas? Cas?” Dean was asking, trying to pull him out of it. 

“Yeah?” Castiel looked up suddenly only to realize that the french fries that he had been saving were gone, and instead a piece of apple pie had been placed before him. “What’s this?”

“It’s pie,” Dean almost exploded. He watched Cas scoop a tentative piece onto his forkful before jamming it in his mouth aggressively. He chewed comically, letting his cheeks rise up and down with each much. “Well?”

“It’s delicious,” Cas murmured through a mouthful. Dean gave him a cautious eye and looked him up and down before enjoying his own slice. 

They ate their respective slices in silence, an uncomfortable one on Dean’s part. Castiel seemed to be in a world of his own, staring out into the distance as if he was seeing something where everyone else only saw air. 

“Hey,” a man in a navy suit and wavy brown hair that tumbled past his ears sat next to them. 

“Hey,” Dean replied back without glancing in his direction. 

“Uh, I’m Sam, Sam Winchester, Dean’s brother,” Sam offered with a pleasant smile, although the hand he extended was an awkward, clumsy gesture. Castiel glanced down at Sam’s hand and then back up at his face, just staring while loudly munching on his food. 

“Is he-?” Sam glanced nervously back at his brother, slowly withdrawing his hand. 

“My name is Castiel.” There was a clink of the fork as he set it down on the table. “Thank you for the food but I must be going.” Castiel scooted in the booth as if to stand up, but Dean held out his hand. 

“Uh, you’re not going anywhere. You’re with us, remember? We’re supposed to be looking after you.”

“I know what you were assigned to do,” Castiel responded, a clear tone of defiant annoyance in his voice. “But I have a mission I need to accomplish. I’ll see myself out.” He rose and started heading towards the door. 

“Mission?” Dean almost pushed Sam out of the booth as he stumbled after Cas out into the chilly night. He grabbed the shoulder of Cas’ jacket, spinning him around to face him. Confused brown eyes met hazy blue ones.

“It’s none of your concern, Dean Winchester,” Castiel barked over the rush of a car driving past them. 

“None of my concern?” Dean echoed. “You show up here, saying your name’s Castiel, you have no idea where you came from, who you are, you’re supposedly on some ‘mission’ that you know nothing about and that’s just none of my concern?”

“Everything you said is…accurate,” Castiel confirmed. “Although-“ He let his voice trail off as he looked up at the stars, which were barely visible through all the lights in the city below. 

“Although?” Dean asked.

Castiel turned back to face Sam and Dean, as if seeing them for the first time. “If I tell you what my mission is, will you help me? Orders aside, will you help me?”

“Yes, Cas, dammit, we will help you,” Dean almost snarled. “Now what the hell is going on?”

“I need to go home,” Cas said quietly, lowering his eyes. 

“Home?” Sam repeated. 

“Up there.” Cas raised his eyes to stare back at the sky before everything slipped from his vision and went black.


	3. Chapter 3

“Well, I think it’s clear where we need to take him. Back to the looney bin.” Dean and Sam had placed the unconscious Castiel in the back of the Imapala and drove back to their three-bedroom apartment. Technically the third bedroom was tiny and used as extra storage, but it was going to need to serve as a guest room now with Castiel staying with them. That is, if he was staying with them. 

“Dean-“

“He’s not staying here, Sam,” Dean insisted, throwing out his arms. 

“Okay, first we need to find out what happened,” Sam said, his voice struggling to remain calm and rational. He held his hand out in front of him, as if it helped support his argument. “He’s not the only one, Dean. If he was the only psycho roaming the streets with no memory then fine, but there’s dozens of people out there Dean.” 

“Dozens?” Dean asked, his eyebrows shooting up. “We have eight reported-“

“That we know of,” Sam spat back.

Dean wiped his face tiredly. “Look man-“ He suddenly stopped and stood up straighter as Castiel entered the room. 

“Perhaps I can shed some light on things,” Castiel said solemnly. 

“Oh yeah?” Dean asked. “You ready to speak up?”

“I am,” Castiel said quietly. “I remember who I am now. I am an angel of the Lord.” 

“An angel,” Dean rolled his eyes. “Right, of course you are.”

“Dean-“ Sam started. 

“No, Sam, this is starting to all sound a little too ‘Girl, Interrupted,’” Dean snapped. “If you’re really an angel, where’s your big fluffy wings? Where’s your halo?”  
“I must have lost it when I fell,” Castiel murmured, turning his face down and to the right. He almost looked a bit ashamed. Dean laughed loudly, but it wasn’t a pleasant sound. 

“All right, Castiel the angel, so why did you fall from heaven?” Dean asked.

“I’m not sure,” Castiel replied slowly. 

“Well, let’s start with the last thing you remember,” Sam offered, his face bearing a look of steely concentration. 

“Sammy-“ Dean sounded taken aback. “You’re seriously going to humor this clown?”

“Well,” Sam shrugged. “What have we got to lose Dean? All of these people starting showing up right after the meteor shower. I mean, what if he’s being serious?”

“If he’s being serious?” Dean scoffed. “Sammy-“

“Would it help if I showed you where I fell?” Castiel asked to no one in particular. Both Sam and Dean stopped to look at him. 

“Where you fell?” Dean asked, as if he wasn’t quite sure he was hearing him correctly. Castiel inclined his head slightly, just enough to be called a nod. A dark shadow fell over his eyes. Dean did not tremble at the look, but he did draw back some. 

“Okay then,” Dean said slowly, turning to face Sammy. “Let’s go see where he fell.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry guys. Life has been crazy for me. 
> 
> The last time I updated, I wanted to share with everyone that I was pregnant.
> 
> Unfortunately, my boyfriend was less than enthusiastic. After three weeks of pressuring me to get an abortion, he finally snapped and declared I wasn't pregnant even though I had the test results to prove it. He kicked me out of his apartment where we were living together, and so I ran straight to get a pregnancy test. It came back positive, but he refused to look at it. Then he wouldn't give me my cat back, declaring I don't deserve her. When I came back to get her, I found a knife in his bed. I don't know if he was going to hurt me with it or what, but it was really scary. I called the police, and they gave me my cat back and told me to have no further contact with him.
> 
> Seven weeks in I had a miscarriage. The doctors told me it was directly related to the stress of everything that happened. My now ex-boyfriend doesn't want to deal with the miscarriage, and has started telling his friends and family not only that I lied about the pregnancy, but that I'm the one who put the knife in his bed. What...my psychiatrist has told me not to let it get to me and to just ignore them. Some days it's all I can do not to dump three dozen copies of my medical records over his office floor to make sure they all know the truth, but I've been told by literally everyone that it's not worth it and I won't gain anything from it, so I don't. 
> 
> TL;DR: My life has been crazy...but I'm working on new chapters and they'll be out in a more scheduled manner!! I have written chapters five and six and they will be out within the next few days!! =)
> 
> \---

A few miles north of the Stull Cemetery in Lawrence, Kansas, lay a giant oak tree in the middle of a lush field that was not there the year prior. Due to the lore around Stull Cemetery, it was avoided by many of the locals, and therefore the sudden flourish of plant life went ultimately unnoticed.

 

"Well, this is bizarre."

 

Those were the first words out of Dean's mouth as he pulled up. Although it was late dusk as they arrived and pink-and-red fingers still sprawled across the sky in the darkening twilight, it was still clearly to see the clear border of a green, lush field. About the size of a football field, a circular ring of foliage radiated out from a large oak tree in every direction, coming to a distinct end where the fresh green met the familiar red, dry soil.

 

"What do you think caused this?" Sam asked as Dean cut the engine to Imapala. While Dean and Sam got out of the car, Castiel sat resolutely in the back of the car, staring straight ahead of him, his attention fixed on the oak tree.

 

"My grace," he murmured, more to himself than anyone else.

 

"Your what?" Dean asked, leaning into the open window of the Imapala in order to hear Cas better.

 

"My grace," Castiel repeated, sounding annoyed, as if this is something that should have been obvious.

 

"Oh," Dean stood up straight and looked at Sam over the shiny roof of the Imapala. "His grace. Of course."

 

Castiel got out of the car, the sound of the car door shutting resounding in the silence. Castiel started walking towards the tree, the grass brushing just below his knees as he walked. The Winchesters watched him in silence. Dean's face wore an almost annoyed look that showed that he was more frustrated with the situation more than anything else, whereas Sam's forehead was creased with a touch of concern. Sam looked as he was about to call out to Cas, but Dean simply raised his hand to stop him.

 

Castiel stopped a little ways off from the tree and cocked his head to the side, staring up at the high branches, as if there was something that he should be seeing. Then he looked to the sky and turned in a small circle, his eyebrows knotted together as he looked imploringly at the fading sky above him. The red streaks had disappeared from the sky now, fading to a faint fiery glow in the distance. "Father?" Castiel asked the silence. The silence didn't answer.

 

"Cas!" Dean shouted to get his attention. "What's going on?"

 

"My grace isn't here," Castiel called back.

 

"Shocker," Dean muttered under his breath.

 

Castiel made his way back to them slowly, his face more confused than anything else. "My grace isn't here," he said softly, staring directly into Dean's green eyes. The gesture made Dean uncomfortable and the hair stood up on the back of his neck, but he pretended not to be fazed by it.

 

"Did someone take it?" Sam asked.

 

"Sam!" Dean cut him off sharply. "We're not playing his games anymore. We took him here, and there's nothing."

"There's this," Sam insisted, gesturing around them. "Look at this circle, Dean. Look how it just stops. This tree wasn't here a few months ago - it just sprung up out of nowhere, right around the time these people started showing up. What if there's a connection?"

 

"No, no," Dean shook his head. "This is a little bit too "Fourth Kind" for me. What are you saying, aliens crashlanded to Earth and started sprouting up trees?"

 

"Angel," Castiel clarified quietly, and Dean turned, as if noticing him for the first time. He opened his mouth to say something, then closed it, perhaps noticing the look of honest sincerity on Castiel's face. "Angel," Castiel repeated, as if he wasn't sure Dean had heard him right the first time.

 

"So you-" Sam started. "All of you, you're all...fallen angels?"

 

"It would appear so," Castiel answered. "I would need to meet with the others. Perhaps someone remembers something-"

 

"No," Dean insisted. "There's nothing to remember. You've taken a few too many drinks, uh, flew over the cuckoo's nest one too many times. There's no such thing as angels, Cas."

 

"Dean," Cas said sharply. "I need to find my grace. I need-"

"You need help," Dean insisted. "And you're going to get some."

 

"Dean-" Sam offered in a placating tone, but Dean cut him off with a glare.

 

"He needs help, Sam," Dean insisted, staring Castiel down.

 

Castiel stared at him defiantly, conflicted green eyes staring into sparkling blue ones.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the support guys. =] It feels weird sharing what is probably the most intimate detail of my life to complete strangers, but all the support is worth it. I can't quantify how much that means to me, I really can't. So thank you, from the bottom of my heart, thank you. <3 
> 
> So as thanks, here's chapter 5. Chapter 6 is coming out tomorrow, and 7 the day after.  
> And let me tell you......Chapter 7 is a doozy.  
> You'll just have to wait and see. ;)
> 
> \---

Four months. It had been four months since Castiel had gone to the tree in search of his grace. Twenty-eight people had been found in all, and all of them had been admitted for rigorous mental treatment. Some claimed that they were angels, whereas others swore complete amnesia, to the point where they couldn't remember their own name. However, most, if not all, reported that they had some sort of mission that they had to accomplish, though no one could remember what it was.

 

Castiel, in particular, was aggressive at first. They tried to give him a new name, Jimmy, but Castiel refused to answer to it. Finally they relented to calling him Castiel, but worked to dispel the ridiculous notions that Castiel was an angel. For the first six weeks, Castiel was hostile and uncompromising. Finally, Dean consented to more aggressive therapy. If you asked Dean, he would feign ignorance. If you asked the doctor, they would swear allegiance to their doctor-patient confidentiality oath. And if you asked Castiel, he would say that he didn't remember. Because while he had the body of Castiel, his mind was displaced entirely.

 

They gave Castiel a new identity, a new memory, and was trained to work alongside Dean as his partner. Sam supported the idea; Dean was vehemently opposed to it. Although he insisted that he worked better alone, Agent Hendrickson insisted that whenever Castiel was released from treatment, he was back to being Dean's responsibility. He would still live with Dean. He would still take care of him, and he would teach Cas to be a productive member of society.

 

When Castiel was finally released from treatment, Dean wanted nothing to do with him, and it was Sam who had picked him up and driven him back to their house. When they arrived, Dean was sitting in the kitchen, chowing down on a fastfood burger. Wrappers littered the wooden table, and three beer bottles, all probably empty, teetered precariously on the edge. "Dean," Sam called out.

 

"Sammy," Dean answered. "Hey, glad you're back, I-" He stopped short as arrived in the doorway and saw Cas entering behind Sam, wearing his signature trenchcoat. "Oh, no."

 

"Hello, Dean," Cas offered a pleasant smile.

 

Dean glared at him. He tried to soften his eyes, but it was clear that he did not want Cas living with him. He did not want Cas to be his partner at work. He wanted Cas to just stay at the institution, or better yet, just disappear from his life together.

 

"I'm sorry if we got off on the wrong foot before," Castiel offered. "I was...not well." He walked over to Dean and held out his hand. "I was hoping we could start over on a...better foot." He smiled boyishly up at Dean, his blue eyes twinkling with innocence.

 

Dean swallowed for a minute and glanced over Cas' shoulder at Sam, who raised his eyebrows in an optimistic "give him a chance" look.

 

"Glad you're feeling better," Dean managed, shaking Cas' hand. Castiel seemed overly excited by the gesture, his polite smile breaking into a full grin.

 

"Here, let me show you where you'll be staying," Sam said, re-introducing Castiel to his former bedroom. When they entered the bedroom, Sam closed the door behind Castiel. The room was small, and two grown man standing in the room with Castiel's suitcase made the already-small room even smaller. The ceiling sloped down into the room, ending in one tiny glass window overlooking a fire escape hanging over an alley. A twin bed was pushed against the wall, and a tiny wooden four-draw dresser stood opposite it. Behind the door was a small walk-in closet where two suits were already hanging, with a small shelf above it, where four pairs of Dean's old jeans were neatly folded. A cheap black plastic fold-up table was folded up and leaned against the wall next to the dresser.

 

"I'm sorry it's a bit cramped," Sam offered.

 

"I love it," Cas said warmly, looking at his surroundings with affection. "It's...austere." He smiled up at Sam, as if he was expecting praise for this unforeseen use of superior vocabulary.

 

"Very good, Cas," Sam said, as if he was a teacher praising a pupil. His demeanor suddenly changed, and he glanced back slightly as he became aware of the sound of paper bags crumpling from the kitchen, which marked Dean cleaning the table. "Look, Cas, about Dean-"

 

Cas' smile slipped, prompting Sam to continue in a more apologetic confession.

 

"It's nothing that you did wrong, it's just...he's always been a bit of a loner, and he doesn't really like babysitting anyone."

 

"I'll try not to be a burden," Cas said quietly, his eye sweeping down to the floor.

 

"No, Cas, you're not a burden," Sam said. "It's just...he needs some time to get used to you, that's all.

 

"And how do I do that?" Cas asked.

 

"Get him pie," Sam answered in the most dead-pan face he could muster. "Lots and lots of pie."


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, chapter 6. =)  
> Tomorrow, chapter 7.  
> Then chapter 8 will come either Sunday or Monday.  
> ...and that's as far as I've written. xP
> 
> Enjoy!!  
> By the way, just throwing this out here: yes, I DO have a tumblr. It's streetsolo, the same as my name on here.  
> It's a superwholock (mostly SPN) blog with a bit of humor thrown in.  
> FOLLOW AT YOUR OWN RISK. =X
> 
> \---

Dean thought he would pull a fast one and avoid driving to Castiel to work as he had promised the night before. For the first time ever, showed up an hour early to work, ensuring that Castiel would not get a ride. Sam worked at a department a town over, but he had no problem dropping off Castiel at the station, making a mandatory stop-off first.

 

When Dean heard Agent Hendrickson talking to Cas, he expected to see the scrawny man in the grease-stained trenchcoat with the mop of messy dark hair. Instead, he looked up to see a different Castiel. Wearing a pressed navy suit with an ID badge clipped to his blazer, Castiel looked...sharp. He had made an effort to tame his wayward hair, shaved his straggly beard, and stood up straight and confident.

 

He walked straight towards Dean with a white styrofoam container in his hand. Dean's mind raced from the sudden transformation, and he quickly racked his brain to think of a good enough reason for why he had ditched Cas that morning.

 

"Busy day?" Cas asked pleasantly, stopping in front of Dean's desk.

 

"Yeah, we have this case, and I just - I, uh, I had some files to grab-" Dean floundered.

 

"Awesome," Cas answered, apparently unfazed by Dean's fumbling. "By the way, Sam told me you forgot to pack your lunch on the way out, so I picked this up for you." He placed the styrofoam container on Dean's desk and walked away calmly.

 

Dean waited until Cas had turned the corner before he quickly pulled open the styrofoam box, revealing a greasy burger, crispy fries, and not one but two slices of pie. Dean opened his mouth and wiped it with the back of his hand. Perhaps he was judging that kid too harshly after all.

 

\---

 

After lunch, Dean decided to give Cas the benefit of the doubt. Cas did seem better, after all. He seemed more socialized, more...human. Dean shook his head quickly to dispel the thought, remembering how Castiel had first referred to himself as an angel of the Lord. There was still something that he couldn't put his finger on about Castiel that unnerved him, but he couldn't discern what it was.

 

Either way, Castiel was acting like a normal human and Dean determined to treat him like one. His latest assignment was a routine one. A man named Francis Miller, 41, had gone missing a few weeks prior. The police had found his car parked outside a Presbyterian church on the outskirts of town. According to the report, Francis was a devout Catholic who never missed a Sunday mass and taught American History at a private school. Well-liked, no known enemies. Loving family. Married for seventeen years, had a fifteen year old son. Police considered the possibility that he had just up and left, before his son accidently revealed that his parents were having martial trouble and he heard talk of a divorce. Now the police suspected foul play, and needed to follow up with Maria Miller, 39, to see if she could provide any more knowledge about her husband's whereabouts.

 

Agent Winchester and Agent Novak sat side by side in the Imapala as it cruised along the highway. "I'm nervous," Castiel confessed as Dean sped along.

 

"Nervous?" Dean almost scoffed, but caught himself just in time, remembering his promise to treat Castiel like a human being. "No, nothing to be nervous about."

 

"I just hope I don't screw up," Castiel laughed to himself, rapping his knuckles against his knees. "I mean, apparently I was one of the best detectives in the force before the car accident."

 

That's right. Dean almost forgot. After Castiel's memory had essentially been wiped; they told him that he had gotten in a car accident on a high speed chase which had wiped all of his memories. He had no known family prior to the accident, and so the Winchesters were happy to give him a place to stay and help with his recovery.

"Were we partners then?" Castiel asked curiously.

 

Dean was advised not to answer too many questions or entertain Castiel's curiousity too much. No one knew what it would take for Castiel to realize that things weren't adding up.

 

"No," Dean said distractedly, glancing over at Castiel. "No, you were in a, another division."

 

"Right," Castiel nodded, but his brow was furrowed, as if he was trying to remember.

 

"Hey, the case," Dean said quickly in order to snap Cas out of it. Cas' face brightened immediately, as if the clouds had lifted and a ray of sun poured through the glass of the Imapala's tinted windows, illuminating Cas' face.

 

"Right, the case." Cas' tone was visibly happier. "What do you think? Foul play? What's your gut say?"

 

"My gut could go for another burger," Dean responded huskily, glancing out the window. It wasn't that funny, but Castiel laughed regardless, a sort of carelessly free laugh that made the tips of Dean's ears turn red.

 

It wasn't long before they reached the Miller residence, MILLER emboldened in bright red letters on the side of their speckless white mailbox. They were in the heart of suburbia and it was all too Stepford for Dean. This house lacked a white picket fence, but it did have the Home-Depot-green manicured lawn that you see in every home improvement commericial ever. They walked side by side up the cobblestone walkway up onto the wooden white porch. Dean rapped on the back of the door with his knuckles, quickly turning back to Cas before the door opened. "Let me do most of the talking."

 

Cas inclined his head in a steep nod, staring at the door. A middle aged woman with long blonde hair, bright blue eyes, a white angora sweater and faded blue jeans opened the door. "Can I help you?"

 

"I'm Agent Winchester, this is Agent Novak." Dean pulled out his badge properly, but Castiel pulled his out and held it upside down, staring straight ahead nervously.

 

Dean fixed it for him, while Castiel all the while stared straight ahead. The woman looked unnerved. "He's uh, he's new."

 

"Uh-huh."

 

"Maria Miller?"

 

"Yes, that's me. Is this about my husband? Have you found him?"

 

"Unfortuantely, no, we have a few more questions for you."

 

The woman looked distant for a moment as she dipped her head. "All right." She seemed to relent somewhat as she stood aside for them to answer. "Come in."

 

The agents stepped inside and were immediately struck by the amount of religious paraphenelia, from crosses to statues of Mary and her child. "Would you like a glass of water?" she asked, as she gestured towards a red velvet couch that sat adjacent to a low rectangular glass coffee table.

 

Cas immediately slumped down as she made her way into the kitchen, and Dean was by his side in a second. "Cas? You okay?"

 

Cas put two fingers to his temple, as if trying to control a headache. He sat like this for several moments, as if straining to understand something. "What?"

 

"What?" Dean echoed, his face full of concern. "Cas? CAS?"

 

"Yeah, yeah, sorry, I'm fine," Castiel said quickly, sitting up straighter and adjusting his tie. "Just got a uh, bit of a migraine." Dean stared at him and sat down on the couch beside him, still looking concerned. "Probably a side effect of the, uh, accident." Castiel nodded quickly, as if he was trying to assure himself more than anyone else.

They learned nothing new.

 

Maria's story remained consistent and they had no new leads to go on. Back in the car, Dean was willing to consider this an open and shut case until Castiel spoke up.

 

"I think we should get a search warrant," he said quietly.

 

"What?" Dean asked. Castiel started to seem pensive, almost broody. This was not the Castiel he had seen earlier. Ever since the strange headache, he seemed to slip back into the old "angel" Castiel. God, Dean hated calling him that.

 

"I think there's something she's not telling us," Cas said gruffly. "I think she's lying. I-" He looked over at Dean's skeptical look. "Forget it." He slumped back in his chair, staring broodily out the window.

 

"You okay?" Dean asked, the concern ringing through his voice.

 

"Yeah," Castiel responded, but his voice sounded empty.

 

\---

 

Instead of going straight home, Dean brought Castiel to the diner where he had first taken him, the Roadhouse. "I'm not really hungry," Castiel said quietly as Dean got out of the car.

 

"Come on, I'll buy you a milkshake," Dean said appeasingly. Castiel just stared into the distance and didn't respond.

 

"Please, Cas?" There was something that tugged at the edge of Dean's voice that made him suddenly receptive. Castiel nodded and got out of the car, following Dean inside.

 

"You want to talk about what's bothering you?" Dean asked.

 

"Not in particular," Castiel answered.

 

"Come on," Dean pushed. "You've been doom and gloom all afternoon. Talk to me. What's in your head?"

 

"I don't know," Castiel answered intensely, and Dean could tell that he hit the root of Cas' problems. "I can't remember anything, or anyone. I'm told I had no family before this. What happened to them? Why can't I remember them - they gave me names, but what good are names if they have no faces? I had no brothers or sisters, I lived alone, I lost my apartment after the accident and all my stuff was confiscated..." Castiel shook his head. "Who let that happen? It feels like I just woke up in the middle of nowhere with nothing but a name."

 

"Hey," Dean said sharply. "Let me tell you something. That doesn't matter. You have me and Sam now. That's all that matters, all right? We're your family now. My mom died when I was young, when Sammy was just a baby. He doesn't remember what she even looks like, and our Dad? He wa was on the road so much it feels like we were raised by a ghost. I was pretty much a parent to Sammy, and look how that kid turned out." Dean sounded almost proud of himself, and Castiel began to notice for the first time just how devoted Dean was to caring for his little brother. Don't think about what you lost. You didn't lose anything. Think about what you gained."

 

"You and Sam," Castiel repeated, nodding to himself.

 

"There, feeling better?" Dean asked, and Cas nodded reluctantly. "Good, now I'm starving. How about that milkshake?"

 

"I would also like a piece of pie," Castiel said, a faint smile flickering on his lips.

 

"Thatta boy," Dean responded with a wide grin.

 

\---

 

Later that night, Dean had passed out in front of the TV with three beers. Castiel was in his room reading "Metamorphsis" by Franz Kafka, a book Sam had given him to help pass the time.

 

"Hey," Sam appeared in the doorway. "Dean told me earlier you weren't feeling good. You okay?"

 

"Yeah, thanks," Castiel smiled up at him from the bed.

 

"Just wanted to let you know, if there's anything you need, need someone to talk to..." Sam's voice trailed off and nodded.

 

"Thanks," Castiel smiled.

 

"Okay, well, night," Sam answered, retreating from the doorway.

 

"Wait, Sam?"

 

"Yeah?" Sam's eyebrows shot up expectantly.

 

"My head, it uh," Cas laughed, as if in spite of himself. "Gets fuzzy sometimes. I know Dean told me earlier, but uh, I forgot. How did I lose my memory again?"

 

"You, uh," Sam laughed, as if he was stalling for time. "Um, well, you uh, stress of the job, you know? Went a little crazy but you're uh, you're better now."

 

"Right," Castiel nodded quickly. "That's right. Thanks Sam."

 

"Right," Sam nodded quickly. "Right. Um, night Cas."

 

"Night," Castiel smiled pleasantly as Sam stumbled out of the room. With his tall frame, long limbs and gawky movements, Cas likened him to a moose.

 

After he was sure Sam was gone, Castiel got up and closed the door behind him, pulling out a cross that he had taken from the Miller residence. It was small, only about the size of a quarter. hanging on a black silk string. Castiel quickly slipped it around his neck and held it tightly in his fists, the corners making light indents in his palm as he squeezed.

 

"Father, forgive me."


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, here's chapter 7. =)  
> Enjoy!!
> 
> \---

Castiel had woken up earlier that morning to hear Sam and Dean whispering in hushed tones. Dean sounded angry, no doubt chewing Sam out for his latest slip up.

 

The next morning, both Sam and Dean were sitting at the table, Dean looking extremely domestic as he read the paper and nursed a coffee. "You want breakfast?" Dean asked, without looking up. A plastic white plate had been set up on the table across from Dean holding a small portion of scrambled eggs and a few slices of crispy bacon, their golden grease seeping into a papertowel beneath them.

 

"Looks good, thank you," Castiel smiled. He had not gotten dressed this morning. Sam was in his full suit, but Dean still had his collar unbuttoned; his suit blazer and tie tossed over the back of his chair. In stark contrast to them, Cas was wearing a pair of plaid striped blue boxers and a simple white cotton tee shirt. Dean barely noticed how the shirt was a little too small for Castiel, leaving the stiff cotton pulled tense around the muscles in his arms.

"About last night..." Sam began, and Castiel looked up at him innocently as he took a seat at the table.

 

"Yeah?" Castiel asked, picking up a piece of bacon and chewing it with his mouth open. "-dis is good," he managed through a chewed mouthful.

 

"Ummm," Sam raised his eyebrows, trying to find the words to say.

 

"Sam," Dean warned, folding the newspaper and tossing it in front of him with a frustrated huff.

"About last night," Sam began. "I-I blanked, I'm sorry. I just, I wasn't sure if they were telling you about the car accident. Not to trigger anything, you know?"

 

"I understand, Sam," Castiel said, a bit nonchalantly.

 

Dean glanced between him and Sam. "So...you okay?" he asked, leaning on the table a bit, as if to get closer to Cas.

 

"Yeah," Cas answered. "Yeah, I figured it was something like that. I'm okay, guys, really."

 

Dean stared him down for a hard moment before he seemed to relax, leaning back in the chair. "Okay, we're going to head out. You...you take your time, okay? Eat your breakfast, we'll see you over in a few. I'm meeting today to follow up with a warrant for the Miller residence."

 

"Oh good," Cas said through another mouthful. "Good luck with that."

 

\---

 

Dean was doing his best to give him the benefit of the doubt, but he guessed after yesterday's pensive bout and Sam feeding him wrong information, Cas was going to figure things out sooner or later. Cas fit the proverb, "Still waters run deep" perfectly. The only way Dean found that he could ever understand Castiel was looking at his eyes, which seemed to the only indication of his inner thoughts.

 

Or...maybe not the only indication.

 

Dean glanced up from his desk to see Castiel walking in with his signature trenchcoat. Hendrickson caught Dean's eye, and both exchanged uneasy glances. "You, uh, you doing okay?" Dean asked as Castiel approached.

 

"I'm doing great, Dean," Castiel responded, his tone even. "Thanks for breakfast, by the way. It was really good."

"Castiel-" Cas blinked, as if he had just received tragically bad news that he didn't know how to process. Had Dean ever said his full name, ever? It stirred something inside of him, but he couldn't explain what.

 

"Dean?" he asked, and for a moment they just stared at each other, shining blue eyes into gemstone green ones.

"Let's talk." Dean stood up and took Cas out to the back of the building, where most of the newer members of the department smoked. Fortunately for today, there was a light rain falling and everyone else was inside, busy with other work.

 

"You doing okay?" Dean asked, after he was sure the coast was clear.

 

"I'm fine," Cas repeated, although his face revealed something else entirely. It looked like confusion, as if he truly couldn't comprehend Dean's sudden concern.

 

"Look, Cas," Dean said stiffly. Cas could detect a tragic edge to his voice, as if he wasn't sure he could manage exactly what he wanted to say. "What is going on with you?"

 

"I-" Castiel's voice trailed off as he squirmed uncomfortable under the heat of Dean's gaze.

 

"I'm worried about you." Dean's eyes burned into his, and Castiel immediately felt stuck in place. Stuck in time. Just...stuck, as if Dean Winchester's gaze was the only force in all the world that could make the universe stand still. Even the rain against the pavement was suddenly silent. All Castiel could hear was the sound of Dean's heartbeat in his chest, and the very faint sound of air slipping in and out of Dean's nostrils.

 

"I'm sorry." It was the only thing Cas could think of to say. Dean turned his head to the side, as if he couldn't understand what on Earth Castiel would have to be sorry about.

 

"Sorry for what?" Dean asked. It was a stupid question. It was an extremely stupid question. Cas felt like he was letting Dean down, that was obvious. But why? What did Castiel do?

 

In that moment, Castiel decided that he wasn't ready to tell Dean. He couldn't handle him. He might send him away again, and he couldn't risk that. He couldn't risk losing more of himself. As it is, he didn't know how much of himself had been chipped away. He stared into Dean's eyes, and was suddenly aware of the flecks of yellow that danced around his pupil. He noticed the stray hairs that Dean had missed by shaving, completely unseen to everyone but those who stood but a few inches away. He noticed the soft, pink curve of Dean's lips and suddenly leaned forward and pressed his lips against Dean's.

 

Maybe it was the emotionally charged moment, maybe it was the confusion, maybe it was impulse, and maybe it was something else together. Castiel's lips lingered against Dean's for a moment before Dean responded, moving his lips against his.

 

The intereraction lasted for exactly thirty-seven seconds before Castiel quickly pulled away and disappeared back inside the building. Dean stood outside for a moment, his left hand finding the brick wall behind him as if to steady himself. His eyes burned into the ground where Castiel stood, and he found himself running the thumb of his free hand over his tingling lower lip. He wasn't sure which the biggest question was. Why did Castiel kiss him? Or, more importantly, why did he like it?

 

\---

 

Castiel hid at his desk for the rest of the morning, and Dean didn't know whether to approach him or leave him be. However, after he got back from lunch, Hendrickson informed him that the request for a warrant had been approved, and he was to take Cas and go back to the Miller residence as soon as possible.

 

"Right, uh, okay," Dean answered distractedly.

 

"Is he okay?" Hendrickson asked. "He's been sitting at his desk all day. And he's back in that trenchcoat."

 

"Yeah I-" Dean shook his head as his voice trailed off.

 

"You okay?" Hendrickson asked. He had never seen Dean look so shaken, or so affected, by anyone or anything - ever.

 

"Yeah, I'm fine," Dean nodded tersely. "We'll head out first thing."

 

Dean went to the bathroom, took a drink of water, went back to the bathroom to pace around in front of the sinks, then when someone came in he went to the bathroom against to act as if he had been doing that all along. Somewhere mid-leak the thought, "This is ridiculous" crossed his mind and he quickly left the bathroom and headed straight to Cas' desk.

 

"Hi Dean," Cas said in a friendly tone. Dean stopped for a moment. He had been almost charging to Castiel's desk like a bull charges a red flag. Castiel seemed to act like everything was fine. Did he forget? Did he...? Too many thoughts crashed over Dean like a wave, and he found it hard to concentrate on one in particular. "Need something?"

 

Castiel seemed totally unfazed by Dean's fumbling. "We uh-" Dean wiped his chin with the back of his hand. "Got approved for the warrant. Ready to head back to the Miller place?"

 

"Absolutely," Castiel answered, hopping to his feet. Instead of characteristically waiting to follow Dean out, he took the first step and walked around Dean and out the door to his car.

 

Dean wanted desperately to say something to Castiel. He honestly just wanted to stop the car in the middle of the highway and yell, "What the hell, Cas?!" but Castiel seemed to be in a good mood, humming along to the classic rock on the radio that he was happily taking a liking to. Dean decided, at least for now, that work was more important than whatever was going in Cas' head.

 

"I love this song," Castiel remarked in an attempt at making conversation.

 

"What song?" Dean asked distractedly.

 

"Twist and Shout. You know, The Beatles?"

 

"Oh, yeah." Dean nodded, his gaze somewhere off in the distance.

 

"What's wrong?" Cas asked, a sarcastic smile forming on the corners of his lips. "Can't you dig The Beatles? Or are you more an Elvis kind of guy?"

 

"I don't know," Dean shrugged absently. "This song just always makes me sad for some reason."


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm writing a new chapter everyday at work.  
> Fortunately I work ten hours a day and there is little to do, so I just write to keep myself entertained.  
> It's getting a little funky trying to elucidate everything so a clear plot line can emerge because there's so many different directions I can take this.  
> So the next few chapters up to 11 work a bit more on developing the storyline and the uh.....profound bond. ;) 
> 
> \---

Although the Miller residence looked the same on the outside as the Impala pulled up into the slate driveway, Castiel could tell something was different. Nothing physically, but there was an uneasy feeling that worked his way into his gut.

 

"You okay, Cas?" Dean asked. Cas just nodded resolutely without regarding him.

 

"Let's go," he said in a gruff, down-to-business tone, and Cas followed suit.

 

As Maria opened the door, Castiel let Dean do all of the talking again.

 

"A warrant?" Maria asked.

 

"We just want to take a look around," Dean offered appeasingly. "Is your son home?"

 

"No, no, he's at school." She stood between them and the doorway, as if she didn't want to let them in. "Look, I've already told the police everything-"

 

"We need to take a look around," Castiel said sharply with a step forward. She cowered back for a moment, and opened the door wider. Castiel stepped through and scanned the living room.

 

"Do you think I had something to do with this?" she demanded. "I loved my husband-"

 

"Loved him so much you were going through a divorce?" Castiel asked, looking in every direction, as if he was scanning for something.

 

Dean stared at Cas, in shock over Cas' sudden bravado. Or maybe he was still in shock from the kiss. He couldn't quite tell which.

 

"We need to check the basement," Cas said suddenly, more to himself than anything else.

 

"Through there-" Maria pointed to a white door in the far corner of the living room. Castiel quickly made his way over to it, twisting the knob first to the right and then to the left. He pushed his weight into the door, but the door merely shook in its frame. "It's-" Maria began, but Cas pushed his weight against the door with a bit more force and it gave way. "-locked."

 

Cas wordlessly started down the wooden steps to the basement. It was pitch black, even with the light streaming down onto the steps, and Cas didn't see the light switch dangling from the ceiling until he had walked into it. He scrambled for a moment before he grabbed the delicate metal chain and yanked it. The lights flickered on.

 

The room was smaller than Cas had believed it to be, probably only the size of a bedroom. Against one wall was an average-looking workshop: a wooden table with power tools hanging on the wall above it. However, against the far wall, was an altar. A deep purple satin black cloth had been draped over what Cas assumed to be another wooden table. There were several strange marks and symbols smearing into the cloth with what appeared to be white paint. Lying on the table in different golden and silver dishes were the different extremeties and organs of Mr. Miller, his dismembered head lying in a silver dish in the middle of the table. Bits of his flesh had been stripped away, as if it had been eating by tiny bugs, and one of his eyes were missing, revealing a deep black socket.

 

Cas felt like he should be surprised. But he wasn't. The white symbols in the fabric looked familiar in a way that he couldn't describe, as if he was looking at a book he knew he had cherished as a child but could no longer remember. Suddenly he heard a scuffle upstairs and snapped back to reality. "Dean-" Cas cried, just in time to watch Dean being thrown down the staircase. He landed hard on his shoulder at the bottom of the stairs, and Cas quickly pulled him into a sitting position.

 

"A little far from home, Castiel?" Maria asked, walking down the stairs. Castiel suddenly noticed that her eyes were pitch black, pupils gone.

 

"Who are you?" Castiel hissed, pulling Dean's body a little further in the room to get in front of him. "How do you know my name?"

 

"Who doesn't know your name?" Maria asked, her tone mocking and amused. "Who doesn't know any of your names? All of Daddy's children, out on the streets...at first we thought we were in for a real challenge. But none of you can remember who you are, or should I say, what you are." She smirked at him. "Makes for easy pickings."

"He-" Castiel jerked his head back in the direction of the man behind him. "Was he...an angel?"

 

"Possibly." She grinned at him, white teeth shined at him like threatening jaws in the dim light. "Now that you've all lost your grace, you're a little hard to find. We know less than a hundred fell in this area. But over the whole world? It's a global game of manhunt. And you won't even see us coming."

 

"Not all of us have forgotten," Castiel retorted. "Some of us remember."

 

"No, most of you are being rehibilitated," Maria replied, not sounding too concerned. "You're being labeled as looneys and being trained to forget who you really are. And once you forget who you are, you're easy pickings." Her lips pulled back in a confident smirk. "Knowledge is power."

 

"Not if we stop you," Castiel snarled. "If I remember, there must be more like me who-"

 

"You remember what, Castiel?" Maria asked. "You've lost your grace, hell, you don't even recognize a demon when it's staring you in the face. You have no power to stop me. You don't have enough power to stop any of us. You can't-"

 

Out of nowhere, Dean lunged at her from behind Castiel. She raised her hand, and Dean was thrown back into the wall without even touching her.

 

"Dean-" Cas cried, rushing over to knock her into the wall. This time she fell backwards, and they rolled around on the ground, exchanging blows, as Dean lay against the floor, eyes closed, a trickle of blood streaming from his forehead.

 

"You're a lot stronger than you look, angel," the demon hissed as she got to her feet. "But you're still human." She raised her hand to knock him back. Castiel felt his right shoulder give way, as if he had been shoved, but his feet stayed rooted. "What?" she stretched her arm out further, but Castiel remained where he stood, face unmoving. "No, that's - but you're human!"

 

"I'm starting to remember." Castiel's voice was soft and low. "I remember that I am an angel of the Lord. And I remember that we fell. And I know that you're a demon. And I know that my job is to destroy you."

 

Cas rushed forward, trying not to think, trying only to act on instinct. He put his hand on the demon's forehead and felt the skin beneath his hand burning hot, but he did not pull away. "You can't-" the demon hissed. "You don't have the juice-"

 

"Help me father," Cas murmured to himself, audible to only himself. It was a prayer in the best sense of the word. Suddenly the burning got brighter, there was a bright flash of light, and the only sound Castiel could hear besides the shrieking cry of confusing as the demon left its host was a high pitched whine that ran through the air that left Cas' ears ringing.

 

Cas let the body fall to the ground as he rushed towards Dean, who was only starting to come to. "What, what happened, Cas?"

 

"You hit your head pretty bad," Cas said with a grunt as he hoisted Dean onto his shoulder. "Don't worry, you're okay. I got you."

 

\---

 

Mrs. Miller was arrested for the murder of her husband. Their son was sent off to live with a distant aunt, and Dean left the hospital in an ambulance, leaving Castiel to drive the Imapala back. Although he had kissed Dean, driving the Impala felt so much more intimate than that, as if it was a rare privilege Cas should be extremely grateful for.

 

When he got to the hospital, Sam had just finished briefing Dean on the last details of the case.

 

"What do you remember?" Cas asked.

 

"Not too much," Dean rubbed his head. "I remember falling down the stairs and then when I came to, she was on the ground."

 

"That's all you remember?" Cas asked, just to be sure.

 

"Yeah, Cas, why?" Dean's voice was weak. Cas could trust Dean, he felt a bit more sure of that, but he couldn't say anything. He couldn't put Dean's life in unnecessary risk. People - no, demons - demon knew who he was. And they were coming for him, which put Sam and Dean in danger. He couldn't risk that, but apparently they were already on to him. He would have to stay and keep them safe.

 

He would have to stay and keep Dean safe.


	9. Chapter 9

Castiel didn't think about the kiss, but Dean did. Sitting in a hospital bed for four days with nothing but unrealistic romantic daytime drama on the television left him with too much time to think.

 

He shouldn't have even been thinking about the kiss. He heard what Castiel and Maria had said. Or, what had once been Maria. She said she was a demon. Dean wasn't the religious type. He wasn't the praying type, and he certainly wasn't one to believe in angels and demons. But she had thrown him down the stairs and thrown him against the wall without even touching him, and Dean couldn't quite explain that. He couldn't even explain Castiel. He couldn't explain the scorching black smoke that poured out of every orifice on Maria's face. He couldn't explain the sudden unexplained searing high-pitched whistling that threatened to make his eardrums explode.

 

So what do people do when they're faced with something they can't explain? Assign it the simplest explanation possible that doesn't really make any plausible sense. Or deny it. Or ignore it. Or focus on other, more trivial matters, as a distraction. As soon as Dean closed his eyes, he felt the sensation of Castiel's lips brushing against his, and knew he had found his distraction.

 

\---

 

Dean was allowed a week's paid vacation to recover. As soon as he was out of the hospital, he went straight to the Roadhouse to scarf down his usual three burgers. He barely got through one, and Castiel finished off the rest. "Damn hospital food," Dean cursed under his breath. Castiel smiled at him pleasantly, almost entertaining him. Castiel seemed to be wearing only his signature trenchcoat now, and to be honest, it was kind of growing on Dean. There was a comfort in the familiarity of seeing that trenchcoat.

 

It was amazing how when he was with Castiel, he was completely at ease. When he had been in the hospital, the mere thought of Castiel sent his heart out of rhythm as his mind went to wayward places, but when he was with Castiel he felt grounded and...comfortable. Castiel had saved his life, and kiss or no kiss, a mutual sense of trust, a profound bond, had started to develop between them.

 

Castiel didn't act like anything was wrong, although he did seem happier, lighter, as if a weight had been physically lifted from his shoulders. He sat watching Dean eat his burger with an expression that said out of all the things between heaven, earth, and hell that Castiel could be doing right now, the most important thing to him was watching Dean Winchester eat a cheeseburger.

 

They never discussed the kiss, although they should have. Speaking in vast generalities, there are three kinds of people in this world. People who lust after each other. Usually one partner desires more of a commitment and ends up getting hurt. There is infatuation, where both parties delude themselves into believing that they are perfect for each other and ignore each other's faults and weaknesses until it blows up in their faces. And then there are people who truly love each other. People who truly love each other often do so completely without knowing it. True love is not dropping everything to meet another person's needs. True love is not obsessively thinking about each other, or spending excessive amounts of time with each other, every moment of the day. True love isn't lavish gifts, expensive restaurants, visits to meet the family or passionate nights atop silky sheets. True love is seeing the other person for all of their faults and weaknesses, acknowledging them, and helping them grow. Helping bring out the best part of each other, bolstering the strengths and acknowledging the weaknesses alike. True love doesn't happen at first sight, unless Cupid intervenes. It doesn't happen after one night, or two, and while for some people it takes years and years to develop, others just slip into it naturally. Because true love can't be forced. It's just as easy as waking up in the morning. One moment you're drifting along in the stream of unconsciousness, oblivious to everything around you, and then suddenly you realize it. Or sometimes, you don't. You feel the connection, the magnetic tug, the legitimate confusion of your feelings - but you'll never call it love. People who are truly in love rarely call it love. They don't call it love because it's something so deep, they don't even realize their feeling it. It's just a connection between the heart, between the soul, that binds you together. It's a profound bond that cannot be broken.

 

Maybe Dean and Castiel were just starting to experience that. Maybe they were just starting to slip under the current. But, as some say, true love can't be true without a trial or two.

 

\---

 

Their first trial came sweeping into the department as the newest detective, spunky, 5'4, Becky Madison. Becky had platinum blonde hair with cherry-red highlights and usually wore a navy blazer with a uniform charcoal gray skirt that didn't quite reach her knees by about a few inches. Peppy, cheerful, and over-excited to the point it teetered on mental instability, Becky was as ambitious and determined as anyone in the force, determined to prove to her older, mostly-male counterparts that she had indeed earned her place in the force. No one disputed it, of course, but Becky felt that she had to make it clear that no one and nothing stood in her way. Her spunk and gusto, which on first impression had proved appealing, quickly lost it's zeal after the first...hour.

 

Agent Hendrickson tolerated her. Dean treated her with unspoken contempt, and Castiel walked away from her mid-sentence. However, love can be blind...very, very, very blind...and so when Becky sat at her desk in the middle of the office and peered curiously at everyone around her, she decided that Castiel was by far the cutest and the biggest challenge. And thus began her determination to win his affections.

 

Not that Castiel didn't have bigger things to deal with. He was letting Dean take the leg work on their real cases. Since he was not actually trained and he had no idea what he was doing - and everyone knew that - no one questioned why he didn't do anything, which lent Cas the perfect cover for mindless computer searching. Except in this case, it wasn't mindless computer searching. He was busy compiling a list of all of the people who had appeared in the local area, just as he had. He wondered why no one in the department had bothered to restrict these files to him. Of course, his name is the system was not listed as Castiel. It was listed as Jimmy Novak, the fake name they had tried to assign him previously.

 

There was nothing in common about any of these people. Most over the age of twenty-five, it was a random assortment of age, ethnicity, and appearances. There were no common denominators you could deduce by looking over any of the pictures. Each person was even stamped with the same generic biography: NO IDENTIFICATION. NO DNA MATCHES ANY OFFICIAL RECORDS. NO RECOLLECTION OF PAST EVENTS. HAVE TROUBLE ADHERING TO SOCIAL NORMS. WATCH FOR FURTHER STUDY.

 

Watch? He knew that was why he had been assigned to Dean, but how many others were being videotaped, recorded and assigned to this study? Who was in charge of all this? Who was pulling the strings?

 

Then he noticed something interested. Four of them had already died, all of them in the past week. Although one was a murder, stabbed multiple times when he was walking home late one night in a bad part of town, the other three appeared to be freak accidents: one died when their scarf got caught in an electric fan and they choked to death. Another died when a dresser fell in front of his walk-in closet, trapping him inside. In an attempt to get out, he tried to break through the ceiling, where he burst a pipe and subsequently drowned to death. Yet another died when she got her head trapped in a stair lift. She had fallen backwards down the stairs and got her head wedged between the metal rung of the electric seat and the wall.

 

Castiel was busy looking at her crushed skull when Dean popped over his shoulder. "Doing some light reading?"

Cas quickly fumbled to close the browser, revealing some of the other profiles, including his own.

 

"Cas-" Dean said warningly. Cas only shifted his eyes, unsure of what to say. "Come on, outside."

 

Cas immediately got to his feet, following Dean out. Becky immediately bounced up, following them out. "Going on a smoke break? Can I guys join you?"

 

"No, this is actually...confidential," Dean said, trying to reign in his tone of annoyance. Castiel noticed it, but Becky remained unfazed.

 

"Oh, is it super secret crime-fighting business?" Becky asked, sounding more enthused than ever. "Come on, spill. I want to help."

 

"This matter doesn't concern you," Castiel said gruffly.

 

Becky pouted like a child, sticking out her bottom lip. "Oh come on, I can be one of the guys." She rapped Castiel's arm playfully. His face remained completely stolid. "Bro?"

 

Dean wiped his face in exasperation. "Becky?"

 

"Uh-huh?"

 

"You know, I, uh, I wasn't supposed to tell you this," he leaned in closer. "But Agent Hendrickson. He has this really big mission. And he's only assigning it to our best and brightest. So...I don't know who's going to get it. I mean, I was going to put my name in for it, but you....you're just so..." Dean looked her over, almost with a look of disgust.

 

"You're so..."

 

"Bright," Castiel filled in, accepting Dean's look of appreciation with a brief nod.

 

"You really think I'm bright?" Becky asked in a breathy tone, turning Dean's from a look of appreciation to confusion, with mixed undertones of revulsion.

 

"I'm going to talk to him about it right now!" Becky cheered. She rushed forward and threw both her arms around Cas' middle. He immediately tightened, twisting uncomfortable under his grasp and familiarity. As she ran off, Castiel shook himself a little, as if he was trying to shake off what cooties she had left on his trenchcoat.

 

"I think she's got a thing for you," Dean remarked without thinking. Although Castiel looked unaffected, Dean suddenly got a flashback of Cas' lips against his own and realized that they were standing in this very spot when it happened last. "Uhhhhh," Dean scratched the back of his neck. "Anyway, Cas, what are you looking all that stuff up for?"

 

"Research." Castiel replied flatly, almost appearing bored with the topic. Dean saw Castiel was retreating to his broody former self, and kept him going.

 

"I remember everything, you know," he said quickly. Castiel turned to look at him, really look at him.

"Yes, I, I assumed you did," Castiel admitted blankly. "But you haven't told anything to Sam?"

 

"Not yet," Dean admitted. "I mean, Sam's a believer but this...I can hardly believe it myself, and I was there."

 

"I suppose it is a lot to take in," Castiel admitted, although his words just sounded like...words, with no meaning behind them.

 

"Talk to me, Cas," Dean insisted. "What's going on?"

 

"I'm not sure," Castiel admitted, then looked up at Dean harshly. "I shouldn't tell you this. I shouldn't tell you any of this. This is dangerous and you're going to get hurt."

 

"Damn it, Cas," Dean barked. "I can handle myself."

 

"Can you?" Castiel demanded, eyes blazing. He took a step forward, his eyes blazing into Dean's. "I had to save you. Last time you could barely take care of yourself. If I hadn't been there, you could have gotten killed. As it is, there are more demons out there, responsible for the deaths of my brothers and sisters. I can't just sit here and do nothing."

 

Dean inhaled sharply, perhaps momentarily struck speechless by their proximity. "Cas. Let me help you."

 

"What can you do?" Cas asked skeptically.

 

"A lot? Nothing? I don't know," Dean burst out. "But I'm not just leaving you to deal with this on your own."

 

"From the moment you first laid eyes on me, you hated me." Cas was snarling now. "You wanted nothing to do with me. You didn't believe me. You locked me up. You wasted precious time-"

 

"Of course I didn't believe you, how could I believe you?" Dean demanded, finally meeting Castiel's frustration. "You were just some homeless wreck wandering around the streets, didn't know who you were, what you were doing. What was I supposed to think? Then you start spewing some crap about being an angel of the Lord? What proof did you have? You had nothing, Cas. You could have just been some drunken psycho wandering the streets instead of being..."

 

"Instead of being what?" Cas asked, suspicious of how Dean's anger seemed to suddenly drop off.

 

"You." Dean swallowed hard, forcing his eyes to stay locked onto Castiel's. He didn't blink, he hardly felt like he was breathing. "You."

 

"I can't protect you," Cas said with renewed determination. "I can't protect you, Dean. "There is nothing I can do if-"

 

"I know that, Cas, I know that," Dean said, the strength slipping out of his voice. "But I need to help you. We don't know how the demon is tracking your family down, do we? They may already know where you are. If they do, me and Sam are already in danger."

 

Castiel swallowed and looked away for a moment, knowing Dean was right. "I can help," Dean repeated. "And Sam, Sam too. He can help us. We'll figure this out."

 

"I don't know what there is to figure out," Castiel admitted softly. "I just remember waking up here. I don't know why I'm here, Dean. I don't know why any of us are here. It's like we've all been kicked out of heaven."

 

"Kicked out of heaven?" Dean repeated, dumbfounded. "So you're saying you all just lost your grace and took the swan dive off of cloud nine?"

 

Castiel stared at him hard for a moment with squinted eyes, as if he was trying to figure out what he meant. "Something like that."

 

"Did-" Dean rubbed his face with both hands. "I can't believe I'm even asking this, but did God do this?"

 

"I don't know," Castiel asked. "My prayers have not been answered, except-" He hesitated for a moment, and his eyes glazed over a bit as if he was daydreaming.

 

"Cas? Cas?"

 

"In the basement, there was a shrieking sound-" Cas started.

 

"I know, I heard it too," Dean said quickly. "Was that God trying to talk?"

 

"Or an angel," Castiel replied. "Maybe...maybe not all of us left."

 

"Then why some of you?" Dean asked. "What were you, like part of some angel rebel group that got exiled for treason?"

 

"I have no idea," Castiel admitted, shaking his head. "I don't remember anything."

 

"It's okay, Cas," Dean replied. "We're going to get to the bottom of this. We're going to figure out what's going on, okay? I'm supposed to be looking after you, remember? I'm not going to let anything happen to you."

 

Castiel stared at him at first, then offered him a weak smile. He was an angel, capable of enormous power and Dean was just a human, capable of...ingesting large quantities of alcohol without getting a hangover the next morning. The thought of a mortal human protecting such a powerful angel was ridiculous, and yet Castiel was oddly comforted by the thought. "Thanks, Dean."


	10. Chapter 10

It didn't take Dean long to notice that Becky wasn't just into Cas. She was into Cas, even going so far as to show up to work in a matching trenchcoat. Castiel seemed completely oblivious to the point where it was almost funny, but Dean found the tips of his ears turning hot and red. He was almost frustrated by the way Castiel failed to acknowledge the kiss between them until he realized that was acting like a seventh grade girl. Castiel was an angel. He didn't understand social norms and graces. He probably didn't even recognize the romantic or sexual innotation behind it. Clearly he had no interest in Dean, and Dean suddenly became angry to realize that he had been secretly pining over Cas. He became angry because it meant something to him, but not to Cas. And why should it mean something to him. It wasn't like...

It wasn't like...

That was a whole bag of worms that Dean Winchester didn't want to touch. Dean Winchester wasn't fond of worms. He wanted things drama-free and simple. Above all things, simple. Everything was a complicated mess, and he didn't need sticky things like emotions and feelings clouding his judgement.

"Cas, come on, we got to go," Dean barked at him from across the office. Cas, who had been compiling a list of the angels that had been found, was startled by Dean's sudden treatment. He quickly made sure to close out the information he was compiling and followed Dean out. Dean was already in the Impala, the engine purring. "Come on, Cas, hurry up!"

Cas quickly hustled into the passenger's seat. Dean pulled sharply out of the parking lot without giving Cas a chance to even put on his seat belt. "Is something wrong?" Castiel asked quietly.

"What?" Dean glanced over at Cas, then decided he couldn't face the look of sincere concern on Cas' face. "I'm fine, Cas."

"Your behavior is...unusual," Cas noted. "Is it something I did wrong?"

"No," Dean said, his free hand coming down against the steering wheel. Cas didn't get it and Dean didn't want to give anything away.

Nothing lost, nothing gained.

\---

They arrived at the Harrison residence. Joel and Bryan Harrison had been together for fourteen years. A few years back, Bryan's sister Ana had a daughter named Theresa at the young age of fifteen. Unsure what to do, Bryan and Joel finally decided to adopt her and raise her as their own. But now Theresa had just...vanished around 1:30 PM on a Sunday. Bryan was working from home on the computer in the study and Joel, after having just taken her to the park, was busy preparing a late lunch of grilled cheese and tomato soup for the family. But when he went up to her room, where he had left her to change out of her dirty clothes, she wasn't there. He searched the whole house before finally enlisting Bryan's help. The two of them searched the whole house but found nothing. There was no sign of forced entry and no sign that Theresa had left on her own. Even if she had, she was only four. She couldn't have gone far. There were also several witness statements from neighbors and their children who had been outside playing street hockey or simply enjoying a glass of lemonade in the warm summer sun and reading a book on their patio. No one had seen anyone lurking around the Harrison residence. Everyone saw Joel and Theresa come home. No one saw her leave, but the police searched the place from top to bottom. Theresa was just gone.

"You want me to handle this?" Castiel asked as they walked up the door.

"You want to?" Dean asked. Castiel, still startled from Dean's outburst earlier, simply nodded. He knew everything was a bit too much to process for Dean. He could only imagine the stress he must have been under, so he decided to keep silent and give Dean the benefit of the doubt.

Castiel rang the door and waited patient for the door to open. Joel answered. He was a skinny man, with frizzy brown hair that tumbled down to his shoulders and square-framed glasses that sat askew on his long face. He had black circles underneath his eyes that were the color of ripe prunes. He wore a long, untucked white button up shirt with a large coffee stain down the left breast and black-and-gray checkered pajama pants.

"Special Agent Novak, Special Agent Winchester," Castiel said in a firm voice, gesturing between himself and Dean respectively. "We're here to ask you a few questions about Theresa's disappearance."

"Yeah, yeah, come right in." He opened the glass door wide for them to answer. "Please, anything you can do to help, we'll tell you anything."

He led them into the living room where another man was sitting. After learning that he was a computer programmer, Dean developed the impression that they were both a stereotypical nerdy couple. Joel fit the description, but Bryan did not. Bryan was, well, for lack of a better word, jacked. His muscles rippled out from a solid black A-shirt, and his tight jeans clung to his massive thighs. His short brown hair was spiked up in the front, making his brown eyes look brighter. "Agents." He nodded to them as they walked in, and Dean swallowed.

"Please, sit down," Joel gestured to a spot on the couch, taking a seat across from them. "We've already told the police everything, but if there's anything else we can do..."

"I understand," Dean answered. "We just have a couple of questions. Where was she disappeared exactly?"

"In her bedroom," Joel replied. "We had just gotten back from the park. She had been playing in the dirt so I took her to her room, told her to change her clothes and closed the door. I went downstairs to make lunch, came back up in about twenty minutes, and she was just gone. I thought she might have gone to the bathroom, but she wasn't in there so I went back in her room and checked under the bed, in the closet, but she wasn't there. So I went to check the kitchen...I looked everywhere but I couldn't find her, so I asked Bryan if he had seen her. We both searched the whole house together and I just...we don't know where she could have gone."

"Have any enemies?" Dean asked. "Anyone that would try to take her?"

"No," Joel answered as Bryan grunted loudly.

"You disagree?" Dean asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Let's just say there's some people who don't approve of us," Bryan said flatly. "When we first moved in here, we got death threats from the neighbors. We never called the police about them, we didn't take any of them seriously. Then we met our neighbors, showed 'em we're really nice people and they never gave us any trouble. We got a few more letters, warnings really, after we adopted Theresa, saying we could never be good parents, but we ignored them."

"Do you know anyone who had taken a special interest in Theresa? Maybe a teacher, or someone at her school?"

"That was one of our first thoughts," Joel answered. "But no, not that anyone Theresa told us about. "And even if there was, how would they get in and out of the house without anyone noticing?"

Dean nodded in agreement. After a few more questions, he and Castiel searched the house. At one point, when they were out of earshot, Dean asked if Castiel's spidey-sense was picking up any clues. Castiel didn't catch the reference and Dean dropped it.

As they were leaving, Joel came to the door to show them out. "I just wanted to thank you again for all you're doing to help find Theresa."

"That's our job," Dean replied. "We'll keep working, you have our word."

"Thank you," Joel said again as Dean started out the door. "Oh, and agents?"

"Hmm?" Dean asked, turning back to face him.

"Always good to see more people coming out in the community. You know, at first we were vilified but now look at us. Special agents in your position being so open about their relationship? I think it's fantastic. Shows the world is becoming a lot more open and accepting, you know?"

Dean opened his mouth to speak but no words came out. His ears were burning red.

"Always a pleasure," Cas said, walking past Dean out the door. Dean just nodded to Joel and headed out after Cas.

\---

"Well, that was awkward," Dean muttered to himself as he got into the car.

"What was?" Cas asked. Dean shot him a look, a little embarassed about being overheard. "Oh, about the assumption that we are engaging in a homosexual relationship?"

Dean opened his mouth, made a small noise in the back of his throat, and then closed it again.

"I found it quite humorous as well," Castiel leaned back in his seat, looking visibly amused by the situation.

"Yeah," Dean let out a short laugh, leaving Cas to regard him quizically.

"Is your sudden change in behavior due to the kiss we shared earlier?" Castiel asked.

Dean's jaw literally dropped, and he pulled over to the side of the road. "Okay, Cas-" Dean shook his head, and Cas looked at him expectantly. He hadn't expected Cas to just bluntly address what was at the forefront of his mind, but after considering it for a moment, realized that that was the only way Cas would ever actually address something with him.

"I-" Dean didn't quite know what to say. He had thought about the kiss many times, or how he would approach Cas about it - running up to him and sternly telling him not to do that again, walking up to Cas and kissing him again when he didn't expect it to see how he'd react, but he never expected Cas to approach it directly with him. Dean Winchester did not talk about his feelings. Dean Winchester was not open and forthcoming with his emotions. Dean Winchester was, for all intents and purposes, a tough nut to crack. But Cas was splitting him like a pistachio shell, slowly then all at once, cracking him straight down the middle.

"Did you want me to do it again?" Cas asked.

Dean's eyes widened as he stared at Cas. He felt like saying no would preserve his honor in some way. He felt like if he told Cas off and told him not to do it again that he would overcome some sort of icky feeling inside of himself. Somewhere, deep inside, Dean felt that kissing Cas was wrong. His feelings for Cas were wrong. All of it was wrong. It was wrong. It wasn't right. It was dirty, just dirty.

Then Dean thought about saying yes, and it was like some sort of inner turmoil was lifted when he thought about Cas' lips flush against his own. Something clenched deep inside of him, and he felt the blood move a bit quicker in his veins. It felt like he was giving into some deep dark desire if he kissed Cas. But he didn't want to just kiss him. He wanted to run his hands through Cas' thick dark hair and feel Cas' body push against his own.

"Did you want me to do it again?" Cas asked, tilting his head to the side. Dean closed his eyes for a moment, thinking, weighing one thing against the other. What he felt was right, or what he thought was right, or caring if he did the right thing or not, or maybe just giving into what he wanted...maybe that was right.

Dean closed his eyes. Yes or no. Yes or no. Yes or no. Yes or no.

Dean thought for a moment and asked himself the same question. Did he want Cas to kiss him again? Without thinking about the answer, he opened his mouth and said the first thing that came to his mind.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heh I know how bad it is to want the next chapter of something, so here it is.  
> I wanted to write something nsfw but seeing as how I'm writing this AT WORK and then emailing it to myself to post later, I got to keep it clean.  
> Maybe I'll write you guys a kinky one shot or something later. 
> 
> \---

Dean sat back on his haunches, running a hand through his unkempt sweaty hair. It was hot, and the sun beat down on his bare back through the trees. He had pulled off a deserted road into the woods that cops used to hide out when watching for speeding cars.

He couldn't believe that he had did it. Did it? He couldn't believe that he had liked it. He had decided that maybe if he gave into it, at least once, maybe then the urge would be gone. He turned around to see Cas still lying on the back seat of the car, eyes closed, possibly sleeping. There was something about Cas' body lying outstretched on the back seat in front of him, completely exposed, that touched a nerve deep down inside of him. It wasn't a lusty nerve either. It was more of an...understanding. For some reason, seeing Cas like this made it not so hard for Dean to believe that he was really looking at an angel. It didn't make any sense, but he felt it nonetheless.

Suddenly Cas' eyes opened and Dean found himself gazing into two shining blue crystals. They were as clear and as blue as the ocean waters in those cruise commercials that always played on TV at the early hours of the morning, as if someone's three-a.m.-insomnia would convince them to take a giant floating ship to the Carribean for a week. Their eyes locked as an invisible current passed between them. "Dean."

"Cas." Dean stood there, moving his fingertips against his palms, which were suddenly sweaty. The deed had been done and...and...then what? What was he supposed to do? Just carry on, business as usual? He felt like his entire life was spinning out of control. He had never believed in angels before, never gave them or religion a second thought. Suddenly Cas comes along and everything he ever believed in was thrown on his head. His beliefs? Gone. His sexuality, which he had always been somewhat confident about before, was suddenly different, but he couldn't decide if the change was good or bad. A year ago he didn't believe in angels, and last night he had been inside an angel, at least a being that used to be an angel.

"So, uh, what do we do now?" Castiel asked, getting out of the car to stand in front of Dean. Dean looked him up and down, forcibly pulling his eyes up to Cas' face. He dared himself not to look back down. It was a struggle.

"What do you mean, what do we do now?" Dean asked. He didn't know, and what was worse, he didn't know why Cas was leaving it up to him, as if it was his decision to make. Cas was the one who had kissed him first.

"Will Sam find out?" Cas asked, tilting his head to the side.

"Sam?" Dean asked. He tried to see himself telling Sam what he had just done with Castiel. He couldn't picture it. He figured Sam wouldn't judge him any differently for it, at least not to his face. He would stare Dean down, nod quickly, then walk away. "No, no, Sam, Sam doesn't-"

"Agreed," Castiel said quickly, causing Dean to look at him sideways.

"We should, uh, we should get going," Dean said quickly, and Cas nodded. "Maybe put on some pants?" Dean stared open-mouthed as Cas reached into the back of the Impala, pulled out Dean's boxer-briefs and pulled them on, pulling his jeans on over them.

\---

The car ride back was relatively quiet, although not really awkward. It happened less than an hour ago, and yet it felt like a distant memory, albeit the soreness. Dean focused on everything: the crayola shade of blue in the sky, the charcoal gray of the street, forcing an intensity on everything he laid eyes on in a vague attempt to distract him from things that he didn't want to deal with at the moment. While Dean searched for distractions, Castiel seemed more or less unaffected, regarding the scenery they passed by without much thought.

As they pulled up in the driveway, however, Castiel immediately sensed something was wrong. "Dean," he said sharply, glaring through the windshield at the garage door. "Let me go in first."

"Why?" Dean asked. "Cas, what's going on?"

"Stay here," Cas murmured, getting out of the car and rushing towards the front door.

"Cas!" Dean called after him, but Cas didn't turn around. He swung open the front door and disappeared inside, the panels of his trench coat flapping behind him. "Dammit Cas," Dean murmured under his breath as he rushed inside after Cas.

Standing in the living room was a skinny pale-faced girl with bright red hair that tumbled about her shoulders. Her blue eyes seemed too big for her face, especially in comparison to her petite frame. "Castiel," she said softly. "So it is you."

"Who are you?" Castiel demanded suspiciously.

"My name is Anna," she replied. Her voice spoke with a weight, as if everything she said carried some sort of cryptic signifigance. "You are very lucky I found you."

"Who are you?" Dean asked, moving a little further into the room.

"I know this is going to be hard to believe," Anna started. "But I'm an angel. And so is Castiel." Dean glanced sideways at Castiel, who returned the look. "You don't seem surprised. What do you remember, Castiel?"

"A little," Castiel admitted. "I-"

"Can it Cas," Dean snapped. "How do we know she's an angel and not another demon?"

"Right now I'm human, just like Castiel," Anna said. "And we're both in terrible danger."

"From demons?" Dean asked.

"From demons," Anna said softly. "And from whatever kicked us out of heaven."

"I don't remember anything," Castiel said. "About heaven or - anything."

"We need to find others, Castiel." Anna's voice grew urgent. "Demons are slaying our brothers and sisters left and right, picking them off one by one. We need to band together and fight this. We need to figure out how to get home."

Cas hesitated a moment, looking down. Slowly his head bobbed forward in agreement.

"Wait - no - Cas-" Dean started.

"I need to, Dean," Cas said softly, almost a little defeated. "I need to figure out where I come from and where I belong."

"What if this is some sort of trap?" Dean growled. "Trust me Cas. She's bad news."

"It's worth a shot, Dean," Cas argued. "This is the best we have to go on right now. I need to find my family, figure out what happened."

"Family?" Dean scoffed. "Sam and I are your family, Cas."

"But you're not." Cas turned to him, his voice acidic. "You're not my family, Dean. I cannot stay as a mortal forever. I need to get back to heaven. I need to get back home." He glared at Dean sternly, not necessarily angry, but strict, like a parent. "I need to do this."

Dean swallowed hard, his eyes burning into Cas'. He didn't want Castiel to leave, plain and simple. How funny it was that he was the one who wanted Cas gone to begin with, and now he would do anything to make Cas stay. Cas regarded him intently. "Don't go looking for me."

Anna walked towards Castiel, putting her hand on his arm. "Hold onto me." Castiel gribbed her forearm tightly, and before Dean could say anything, they both disappeared. Dean stared at the spot where they were incredulously for a moment, walking forward to stand in the space they both occupied. He stuck his hand out into the air in front of him, as if trying to enter some unseen portal to follow where they had gone.

Mind blank, he wandered into Castiel's room and sat down at the end of his bed, wiping his face with his hand. What had just happened? Was Castiel gone, just like that? It made sense. Castiel dropped into his life so suddenly, it made sense that he would go the same way. But Dean never expected to get so close to him in such a short time. It suddenly just felt like something was missing, like if someone had removed a couch from a living room that had sat their for decades. You could thrown another sofa in its place, but something would always seem off. Different.

Castiel was gone now. What was Dean supposed to do? Move on and forget he ever existed? Carry on, business as usual? Go looking for him, despite Cas' wishes? Castiel didn't want him getting hurt, but it didn't matter. Dean could take care of himself. It might have been some supernatural battle between heaven and hell, but that didn't mean Dean was just going to sit out.

Dean didn't move from Castiel's bed until he heard the slam of the front door several hours later as Sam came home. "Dean?" he asked softly. "You look like crap, man. You okay? Where's Cas?"

Dean looked up at him tiredly. Sam raised his eyebrows and shook his head slightly, taking off his blazer. "Dean, what's going on?"

Dean swallowed for a moment, getting to his feet. The muscles in his shoulders and his knees ached, and he felt old before his time. "Sam." He looked up at his brother. He was going to need to know everything, everything, he possibly could. "We need to go to the library."


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one's pretty short.  
> Work has gotten crazy busy recently so it's hard to find time to write.  
> I also have no idea where I'm going with this.  
> I just make it up as I go along. :3

The two Winchester brothers sat in a secluded corner of the library, surrounded by piles of books from various major religions.

"Any luck?" Dean asked, closing the cover of a heavy, dusty book.

"A little," Sam answered. "I've leaning more towards Judeo-Christian. I don't think Cas is a deva."

"A diva?" Dean asked blankly.

"A-" Sam swallowed hard. "Look, I couldn't find any mention of a Castiel, but I did find a Cassiel."

"Cassiel?" Dean echoed. "What is he, like, the angel of trench coats or something?"

"Try solitude and tears," Sam answered. Dean raised his eyebrows in interest. "Apparently he's known for watching events unfold without interferring, although he tends to watch over the death of kings."

"Kings?" Dean asked. "Like...in Britian? Like monarchy kings?"

"Maybe the king of hell?" Sam asked.

"Hell," Dean repeated, shaking his head. "Man, can you believe any of this is actually real? Angels? Demons?"

Sam huffed and shook his head. "I mean, I always prayed, I always had hope, I mean, the things we've seen Dean...but to actually meet an angel? Hell, to live with one?"

"Crazy," Dean repeated softly. He had a distant look in his eye, as if he was thinking about something else.

"Dean?" Sam asked expectantly.

"Huh?"

"Dude, what's with you lately?" Sam asked, pulling another book off the stack. "Since when do you even care about Cas? You acted like it was your freakin' birthday when you dropped him off. You couldn't wait to get rid of the guy, and now you're all about finding him?"

"Dude, he's an angel." That was Dean's best defense. He had told Sam everything...everything except the kiss and the events that had transpired in the back of the Impala. It felt like it had happened a lifetime ago, instead of only a few hours. "So here's the question. Once we find Cas, what do we do?"

"I don't know, Dean," Sam admitted. "I don't know if there's much we can do. I mean, apparently demons are killing off angels, who are just wandering around earth with no idea who they are or what they are."

"But why?" Dean asked. "What made them take the swan dive off cloud nine?"

"How do you know they weren't pushed?" Sam challenged.

"I want to know more about this Anna chick," Dean said, unable to hide the irritation in his voice. "I bet we could get some answers out of her. She seemed to know everything that was going on about this."

"Well she is an angel," Sam replied. "Maybe she remembers more than Cas does. If his memory is slowly coming back, maybe she can help him remember."

"Or brainwash him," Dean scoffed.

"Hmm?" Sam asked, but Dean quickly shook his head. "Dude, spill. What happened between you and Cas?"

"I just-" Dean swallowed. "I just feel bad for the guy, okay? I want to help him get home?"

Sam shook his head. "Dean Winchester. Philantrophist."

"Dude, shut up," Dean snorted.

"Dean, we're not going to get anywhere pouring through books," Sam sighed. "We need to talk to Cas, talk to someone who knows something about this."

"Well Cas is God-knows-where," Dean remarked. "How are we supposed to get in contact with him?"

"Pray?" Sam asked as Dean cast him an incredulous look. "What? I mean, come on, Dean. He is an angel."

"That kiddie stuff won't work, Sam," Dean said heatedly. "No, we need real solutions here."

"Well we're not going to find any here," Sam said, resigned. "Let's go back, try to get some sleep." Dean nodded, pushing the book away from him and letting his forehead fall with a light thud against the wooden table.

"I need a nap."

\---

As they arrived back at their house, there was a note taped to the door. "Go to Missouri if you want some answers."

"Missouri?" Sam asked. "The state?"

"I don't know, man, I'm too tired for this," Dean yawned, pushing his way inside as Sam pulled the note off the door. "We'll figure this out later."

Dean walked into the living room, pulling off his shirt as he did so, throwing himself facedown on the couch. "Uh, Dean?" Sam asked.

"Mmm?"

"Um, are those the boxers Cas was wearing this morning?" Sam asked. Dean's eyes jerked open.

"Uhhhh-" he hesitated. "Mine were all in the laundry. Had to borrow a pair."

"But you did laundry yesterday," Sam continued.

"Then I grabbed the wrong pair." Dean's voice rose an octave, and Sam immediately backed down, retreating into his own bedroom.

Dean sighed as soon as he heard the door close and pulled his tired body into a sitting position. "Oh Castiel?" he asked, looking at the ceiling. "Umm, hi Cas. It's umm, me. Look, uh, me and Sam wanted to help but we don't know what we can do. So can you please come back and we can figure something out?" He hesitated, but nothing changed. The air wasn't any different. There wasn't any footsteps, or a zap, or anything out of the ordinary. "I miss you, Cas," he said softly, making sure to lower his voice in case Sam was listening. He let his body fall back down on the couch and pulled the pillow underneath him. He was asleep in under a minute. The minute Dean closed his eyes, Castiel looked over the edge of the couch, barely making out the stubble on Dean's profile in the dim light. He watched Dean's chest rise and fall, listening to the steady rhythm of breath going in and out.

_Not yet, Dean. Not yet._


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time for the good news sandwich!!  
> The good news is that I've figured out how this is going to end!  
> The bad news is that I predict only 3 - 5 chapters left, depending on length.  
> The other goods news is I have a brief outline for another Destiel story started, although it's nsfw.
> 
> PS: If Castiel is really based on the angel Cassiel, who is said to watch over the death of kings, and Crowley is the king of hell......do you think Crowley might die off in season 9? Just food for thought!! xD 
> 
> \---

The first thing that Dean saw when he opened his eyes was an affluent-looking man in a black suit standing in his living room. "Morning chaps."

 

"Sam!" Dean yelled. It was barely morning, and the dim morning sun cast soft pools of light along the floor. Sam jumped up and rushed out into the living room, dressed only in his boxers. 

 

"Who are you?" Sam demanded as Dean scrambled to his feet.

 

"Calm down moose," the man said dismissively. Sam cocked his head to the side, confused. "The name's Crowley."

 

"Crowley," Dean repeated. "Well, Crowley, mind telling me how you got in here?"

 

"It wasn't hard," Crowley replied casually, snapping his fingers. "Finding the Winchester boys wasn't much of a challenge. You're kind of a celebrity around these parts, now." 

 

Sam and Dean exchanged a long, slow look. "How did you know where we live?" Sam asked, clearing his throat.

 

Crowley focused in on Dean and took a few steps toward him. "The stench of that angel's trenchcoat is all over you, Dean." Dean just swallowed, refusing to meet Crowley's eyes. "It's all right. I don't judge. I'm more of a lover than a fighter myself."

 

"Then if you're not looking for a fight, why are you here?" Dean demanded hotly. 

 

"I come as a friend to provide a little....friendly advice," Crowley replied. "You two are a little run down on your luck, eh? Can't find answers, can't find the angel-"

 

"We don't need any help from-" Dean started.

 

"My advice," Crowley barked loudly, causing Dean to take a step back. "Is to stay out of it." 

 

"We can't just-" Sam started.

 

"We can't just-" Crowley mimicked, putting his thumbs to his head as if to imitate moose antlers. "You can. And you will. Or your angel and his scooby pals may not make it back to heaven in one piece."

 

"If you touch one-" Dean was cut off mid-sentence as he was flown back through the air. His back hit the wall with a loud thump, and he fell to the ground in a crumpled heap. "Urgh, I'm never going to get used to that," Dean grunted as he sat up on his elbows. 

 

"Dean-" Sam cried out. He made a move to rush towards Crowley, but Crowley simply held up his hand and threw him back against the wall next to Dean.

 

"You're out of your league, boys," Crowley said, lowering your hands. "Let's leave this fight to the big boys, shall we?" In a second, he was gone.

 

"Well things just got a bit more interesting," Sam grunted as he got to his feet.

 

"Yeah," Dean murmured in his agreement as he started to get up. He grabbed the hand that was offered to him and got to his feet. When he looked up, he expected to see Sam, but was instead met with two worried blue eyes. "Well nice timing there, Cas," Dean murmured as he pulled his hand away. "Looks like we met one of your latest friends."

 

Cas cocked his head to the side, as if he wasn't comprehending. "Crowley is not my friend."

 

"Then who is he?" Sam asked. Dean walked to the far corner of the couch and sat down, arms crossed over his chest. He glared at Cas, who shifted under his weight uncomfortably. Cas looked more like he had when they first met him; hair mussed, trenchcoat dirty, and blue eyes bright but confused. 

 

"His name is Crowley," Cas turned to Sam. "He's a very dangerous demon."

 

"Demon?" Sam asked. Then, "What makes him so dangerous?"

 

"He's the king of hell," Castiel admitted, looking off to the side.

 

"Hell has a king?" Dean asked incredulously. "So what? This guy's Satan?"

 

"No, Lucifer is in his cage," Castiel replied. Dean opened his mouth to speak, then thought better of it. 

 

"This is too much," Dean murmured, putting both hands on his hand. "We're a teaspoon from going cuckoo for cocoa puffs."

 

"Dean-" Cas started.

 

"No, Cas," Dean snapped. "Maybe Crowley was right and we should just stay out of this. This is far beyond me and Sam. How are we supposed to live when we're caught in the middle of some angel-demon battle royale out there?"

 

"I can keep you safe," Cas replied. "I have Balthazar watching the house. He called me as soon as he-"

 

"You have someone watching us?" Dean nearly exploded. "Cas, you have someone watching us? You-"

 

"I just want to keep you safe," Cas said loudly. Dean stepped in from of him, glaring. Cas stared back at him, until his gaze hardened. "You can't appreciate the complexity of what is happening."

 

"Explain it to me." Dean's resolve was steely and unflinching.

 

"No," Cas replied slowly. "There are things that I have to do. You and Sam would only slow me down. Crowley was right. Don't look for me." 

 

Dean was about to respond when Castiel disappeared. Dean just stared at the space where Castiel had been for a minute before he finally turned his head. "Sam. Get your stuff." 

 

"Why?" Sam asked. "Where are we going?"

 

"To Missouri," Dean answered. 

 

\---

 

Thanks to Sam's wit, the Winchester brothers did not drive to the state of Missouri. Instead, Dean granted Sam an hour of research, in which he found a local psychic named Missouri.

 

"Come in Sam, Dean," she said, beckoning them inside an old wooden house. Dean and Sam exchanged nervous looks but followed her in anyway. "You are going to leave disappointed, especially you, Dean."

 

Dean looked at her sharply, but said nothing. "That's all right," Missouri answered, and Dean looked up at her quickly. "Come on, boys, take a seat."

 

"Is there anything you can tell us?" Sam asked, getting to the heart of it. "About the angels? Or the demons? What they're doing? What their plan is?"

 

"The demons are just taking advantage of a bad situation," Missouri answered. "There is only one angel up in heaven right now. His name is Metatron. He is the one that ripped out the grace of Castiel and all of the other angels, causing them to fall from heaven." 

 

"But if he lost his grace, how can he still do the angel-zapping thing?" Dean asked. 

 

"I'm not sure," Missouri answered. "Castiel is a very powerful angel and the more he remembers of who he is, the stronger he is getting. I wish I had more answers for you boys, but I don't know. None of the angels or demons know either."

 

"Is it God?" Sam asked, a tone of awe sneaking into his voice. Dean looked at him incredulously but said nothing.

 

"I don't know," Missouri answered. 

 

"Probably wouldn't tell us even if you did," Dean thought, although no words reached his lips.

 

"No, I guess I wouldn't," Missouri said, turning to face him. "Quit sulking, boy. He's only looking out for you." 

 

Dean mumbled something under his breath, and Missouri let it go. Missouri knew about what happened in the back of the station and in the back seat of the Impala, and that made Dean extremely uncomfortable. But she wasn't treating him any differently, and so he was at least thankful for that. It was as if no one else cared that he was in love with Castiel, and that was fine with him.

 

\---

 

"You know I know there's something going on," Sam said as Dean drove back to their place.

 

"What?" Dean asked distractedly, turning to face his brother.

 

"Between you and Cas," Sam started, gesturing vaguely into the air. Dean bristled but said nothing. "Oh, come on. You've been acting differently-"

 

"No I haven't," Dean snapped.

 

"The way you were looking at him?" Sam asked. "Come on, Dean, you're my brother. I know you better than anyone. I've known for a while." Dean swallowed but said nothing. "I don't care, okay Dean? What you do...that's your business. But you're still my brother, all right?" 

 

"Yeah, yeah," Dean smirked a bit in spite of himself. "Stow the touchy-feely crap, will you?"

 

Sam chuckled in spite of himself, knowing Dean would never admit to anything. "We'll find him, Dean, don't worry."

 

Dean nodded to himself. Yeah, they would find him. The problem was that they weren't the only ones looking.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This chapter includes sexual content that may be NSFW (which is ironic considering I wrote it AT work xD). If you don't want to read the NSFW part, just scroll down until you see the page break. The bottom part of the story is SFW. 
> 
> I think this story has one, maybe two chapters left before the epilogue. I have started on another story, although it remains to be seen if it will be a one-shot or not. 
> 
> Happy reading!! 
> 
> \---

"Dean. Pst. Dean."

Dean blinked in the dim morning light. Castiel was standing above him, looking down over him.

"Go back to bed, Cas," Dean grunted sleepily, momentarily forgetting their situation.

"I no longer require sleep, Dean."

This forced Dean's green eyes open as he rolled onto his back to face Castiel. "Wait, Cas, what?" Cas just stared back at him, the end of his blue tie scorched black and fraying. It had been over a week since Dean had seen him. "Why are you back? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Dean," Cas said quietly, but Dean could sense that there was an edge to Cas' voice, there was something that he was simply not telling him.

"Cas, what's wrong?" Dean asked in a quite, gentle tone that didn't usually cross the hard exterior of Dean Winchester.

Cas closed the distance between them with a kiss, gently pushing his lips against Dean's. Dean pushed his lips back against his, hungrily sucking in his bottom lip. "Cas, tell me what's going on," Dean growled, his forehead pressed against Cas' shoulder.

"Dean," Cas breathed as he went to kiss him again. Dean pulled Castiel on top of him, pulling off his trench coat as he went. He yanked the stupid burned blue tie off from around Cas' neck and didn't stop tearing off clothing until Cas was completely naked on top of him. Dean pressed his lips against Cas' bare chest, pulling a nipple into his mouth and biting down hard.

"Dean-" Cas gasped, his fingers rooting in Dean's hair as he rolled underneath Dean.

Dean pushed Cas' thighs apart with his legs, pulling off his own cotton tee before pressing his own bare chest flush against Castiel's, moving in to kiss and suck at Cas' neck. "Tell me, Cas."

Castiel made a low groan of pleasure in the back of his throat, his fingernails scratching against Dean's back. "No, Dean-"

"Cas-" Dean said warningly, his kisses trailing down Cas' neck to his navel. Castiel gasped and his hips bucked as Dean moved his nose across Cas' trimmed black hair and moved to kiss Cas' inner thigh. His lips parted and he bit down instead, gently kneading the skin with his teeth.

Cas grunted and his hips bucked. His arm shot out to grab Dean's hair and pull him off, but Dean was out of his reach. "Tell me," Dean repeated, but Cas only resumed his heavy breathing, his hips bucking in a slow rhythmic pattern. "Tell me," Dean said again, louder this time. He put his mouth over Cas' length, swallowing the length before he pulled back and gingerly licked the tip. Cas grabbed the pillow behind him with both hands as if for support, groaning as Dean licked his shaft. "Look at me," Dean breathed and Cas gasped and cocked his head forward to watch Dean release a gob of spit on his tip, which dripped down his shaft like a raindrop down a windowpane. Cas groaned and threw his head back into the pillow as Dean went down on him again, licking and sucking until Cas shot his load into the back of Dean's throat. Dean closed his eyes and swallowed, licking his upper lip as he moved to lie down next to Cas.

 

\---

 

 

Cas rolled on top of him, kissing him, hands grasping either side of Dean's face. "My turn," Cas breathed as he started to kiss down Dean's navel, but Dean held him back.

"Not until you tell me."

"Dean-" Cas whined. He stuck out his lower lip in a pout, his blue eyes big and bright in the dim light. "Please Dean-" It was almost a whimper.

"Not until you tell me what's going on." Dean pulled Castiel back closer to him, kissing his lips and his face.

"I can't."

"Come on, earth angel, spill," Dean said softly, kissing Castiel's neck.

"I'm remembering more of myself," Castiel said tentatively. "Some of my powers are starting to return."

"Well, that's good, isn't it?" Dean asked, propping himself up on one elbow. Cas rested his head against Dean's bare chest, allowing Dean to run his free hand through Cas' damp hair.

"I can't return," Cas said softly. "The gates are shut. I can't get back in."

"To heaven?" Dean asked.

Cas nodded. "I'm starting to remember more of...of heaven. It's coming back in pieces but I remember."

"What's it like?" Dean asked. "Heaven?"

"There's not just one heaven," Castiel answered. "Each soul generates its own paradise. I used to favor the eternal Tuesday afternoon of an autistic man who drowned in a bathtub in 1953. It's very peaceful."

"I'll bet," Dean responded automatically, although his mind was elsewhere, perhaps wondering, if he went to heaven, what it would look like. "Cas?"

"Mmm?"

"If heaven's gates are closed, does that block the human souls from entering heaven as well?"

Castiel hesitated for a moment. "No, Dean. I mean, we don't know for sure, but we believe they can get it."

"What about the souls that are already in heaven?"

"Still there, I suppose," Castiel answered. "The gates of Heaven are shut."

Dean paused for a moment, as if finally registering something Castiel was saying. "You need to get back into heaven, don't you?"

"To defeat Metatron, yes," Castiel answered.

"You lost your grace," Dean said softly. "So technically, you are a human. So when you die..."

"I will return to heaven," Castiel said stiffly.

"This?" Dean barked angrily, pushing Castiel off of him. "This is what you didn't want to tell me?"

"I'm so sorry, Dean," Castiel said softly.

"Don't be sorry, you're just- you're going to die?" Dean demanded, his hands balling into fists at his sides. He could hear Sam's footsteps in the hallway, but chose to ignore them. "Dammit, Cas, you're not going to die."

"I have to, Dean."

"You have to?" Dean demanded. "Why do you have to? Pick someone else. Let them go instead."

"This is my battle, Dean," Castiel said gruffly. "I have to do this. I just came to say my good-bye."

"Good-bye?" Dean couldn't suppress the feeling of dread that rose in his chest. "Good-bye? What do you mean good-bye? No, Cas, no, just...no..."

Sam opened the door to the bedroom just in time to see Castiel lean forward and kiss Dean's forehead before he disappeared completely.

"Dean?" Sam asked cautiously. "What just happened?"

Dean swallowed thickly, pulling the sheets closer around his waist as we stood up. "Get some clothes on. We need to find Cas. Now."


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry updates seem few and far between.  
> Work is getting crazy and I only have two weeks left to finish this up.  
> Enjoy!!
> 
> \---

The problem with finding Castiel was that Castiel was, well, an angel, who could teleport anywhere on the globe he wanted. He was also capable of reading the Winchester's thoughts. It's easy to avoid the fox if you know just what rabbit hole he's lurking around. Not that Castiel really needed to read their minds. He knew Dean was going to come after him, although at this point Castiel was more frustrated with Dean than anything. He had a job to do, a mission to accomplish, and Dean didn't want to see him go because of his own selfish feelings. Castiel was able to push his down and away for the purpose of the greater mission at hand, but Dean seemed completely incapable of seeing the big picture.

Dean, on the other hand, did not see it that way. He saw Castiel as foolish and reckless, jumping at the first plan without considering any other alternatives. What were all the angels planning on doing? Just drinking the Koolaid in the hopes that they would be launched up to heaven? They were human now, and there was a possibility that they could drop down to hell. It was like Castiel wasn't even thinking about the possible consequences. He was just following orders, like a soldier, not thinking about the consequences of what he was doing. Beyond that, Dean could not get over how selfish Castiel was being. He came into Dean's life, made Dean care, and then just wanted to check out just like that? Dean knew Castiel was an angel first and human second, but he was still human, meaning he still had feelings and emotions. It wasn't just about him. Sam cared about Cas too, and Cas just wanted to run away and die and act like he had never met them because of "the mission." How was family now. How did he possibly expect to just run off and die without thinking of the people he left behind?

Dean and Sam both quit and spent about eight months driving from state to state, ganking demons, trying to find out where Castiel had gone. They gathered small bits of information here and there, but never much. A few times they met up with Crowley, who always seemed to pop up out of nowhere, offering his assistance. Crowley didn't know what would happen when the angels got back to heaven, but if they were able to take on Metatron and "get their mojo back" the demons would once again be in trouble. It was in Crowley's best interests in order to keep the angels here on earth.

"But you were killing them off," Sam started.

"My mistake," Crowley answered. "Luckily they were confused and disoriented young'ins. Doesn't matter where they went, they won't pose a threat to Metatron or me. That gate works both ways, duckie. Once they get in, they can't get out. You're going to have to find another way to force those gates open."

However, the closing of the gates of heaven was unprecedented, and therefore it looked like it was going to take somewhat of a miracle to get it open again. Either a miracle, or God's intervention. They didn't know where God was, if He did exist, and as Dean said, "That's a big if."

A few weeks later, Crowley popped back in with news. The Winchesters were in a motel room, researching heavily. Dean was seated behind a large stack of books on the bed, while Sam sat on the couch on his laptop. Crowley popped into the center of the room, startling Dean who knocked over a stack of books, causing them to topple noisily to the floor. Crowley looked at them both and spread his arms wide. "Why didn't somebody tell me I had a brother?"

"Go away, Crowley," Dean snarled, hastily picking up one of the books from the floor. "We're in the middle of something."

"Like you were the day before that," Crowley said softly, causing Dean to glare at him, nostrils flaring. "And the day before that, and the day before that."

"Do you need something?" Sam asked, the frustration palpable in his voice. "I mean you pop in here every few weeks to make fun of us. Don't you have anything better to do?"

"Oh, I do and I have," Crowley said with a dark smirk. "You see, while you two boys have been running around the country playing Scully and Mulder, I've actually been...productive."

"Productive?" Dean echoed.

"I've come with grand news." Crowley paused for a moment, making sure both the Winchester's were hanging on his every word. "Your little angel friend isn't going to die after all."

"What?" Dean was off the bed in an instant, retoppling the books. He suddenly couldn't care less.

"Metatron clipped his wings, I merely caged the bird," Crowley chirped.

"What did you do to him?" Dean demanded.

"Captured him," Crowley answered. "Put him and some of his friends in a cage that he can't get out of. No teleporting, no running away, and I've made doubly sure he's not going to trip and fall on any stakes."

"So what are you going to do, just keep him locked up for the rest of his life?" Sam demanded, rising to stand next to Dean. "Let them go, Crowley."

"Oh, not yet," Crowley answered. "See, if he really wanted to die, why not do it already? Why not just sip the Koolaid and take the plunge up top? A whole angel army, right there in Metatron's backyard. No, I think the secrets to opening the gates are here on Earth, and I think they're trying to find out what it is before they take the jump upstairs."

"But you don't know for sure," Dean said, although it sounded more like a question. Crowley had no more idea what the angels were up to than the Winchesters did.

"Oh, Dean, you don't have to worry about what I'm doing," Crowley replied. "I just wanted to let you know that your boyfriend is safe and sound with me."

"Crowley you let him-" Dean started to yell, but just like that, Crowley disappeared. "Dammit!"

"Maybe he's bluffing," Sam was quick to offer.

"And if he's not?" Dean asked. "If Crowley has Castiel and Anna and the rest of the angels?"

"He doesn't have all the angels." A female voice suddenly filled the room as a red-haired woman appeared behind Dean.

"Anna-" Dean hissed vehemently. The last time he had seen Anna, she had pulled Cas away from him. She had been the catalyst for Cas' change from a human to a soldier of Heaven.

"Dean, I know that you don't like me but we haven't got much time," Anna said quickly. "Crowley has captured most of my garrison, Castiel included. We need to rescue them."

"And how do we know this isn't a trap?" Dean asked. "How do we know you're not working with Crowley? How did you escape and Castiel get captured?"

"Because Castiel allowed himself to be captured so that I could get away," Anna replied.

Dean's forehead creased and his hands balled into fists at his sides. "No. No, he-"

"Dean," Anna said sharply. "We need to rescue Cas. None of us are at full power, we can't be without our grace, but Crowley plans to try to get the secrets of heaven out of us. He has already killed Samandriel. I don't know what information he disclosed, but-"

"Salmon-who?" Dean echoed. "Look, if you hadn't shown up in the first place, Castiel-"

"Castiel would probably be dead," Anna hissed back. "You are wasting time. Do you want to save Castiel or not?"

"Yes, we-" Sam started.

"Well that depends," Dean said darkly. "The last time I saw him he was resolute on dying to get back into heaven. If that's true, why is he still around? What's he waiting for?"

"We can discuss that later," Anna answered. "I'm leaving now. You can either come with me and save Castiel or you can go back home and stay out of this war. It's up to you."

Dean sighed and turned to Sam, who nodded beside him. There he was, loyal Sammy, ready to follow Dean's direction no matter what he decided to do. "Okay," Dean said resolutely. "Let's go."


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I haven't posted in a while.  
> Just found out two days ago that hours were cut back a week and this is my LAST day.  
> Woo!! Thanks for the zero warning!! -.-''  
> Anyway, this is the last chapter before the epilogue.  
> Again, thank you guys for reading, commenting, and kudos-ing!! <3  
> Only a few more weeks before Supernatural comes back for its nineth season!! We can make it!!
> 
> \---

Anna sat in the back seat of the Impala, directing Dean to drive to an abandoned warehouse a few miles outside of Canyon City, Oregon. It was a two days drive, since Anna insisted she didn't have enough strength to teleport them and rescue Castiel and the others without her grace.

"So how come you lost your teleportation mojo but you can still gank demons?" Dean asked.

"Grace or not, I'm still an angel," Anna responded. "But the more we remember of heaven, the stronger our power gets." "

Maybe your grace isn't what gives you your power?" Sam asked.

"Maybe whatever powers you angels have, maybe it's dormant inside of you and you still have it, grace or not. I mean, it's all just speculation at this point, but what if-?"

"We're running around in circles, Sam," Dean said hastily.

"What if God brought our powers back?" Anna finished. "What if he's trying to right what Metatron has done?"

"Yeah?" Dean asked. "Then why doesn't God just pop up, snap his fingers, and open the gates of Heaven?"

"God works in mysterious ways," Anna replied with a sly smile on her face. Dean glanced at her in the rearview mirror, a crease forming on his forehead as he shook his head. He didn't have time for God, fairytales, or Puff the Magic Dragon right now. Crowley had Castiel locked up somewhere, and Dean needed to save him.

\---

They pulled up outside a series of large warehouses. Dean flicked off his headlights and parked his car in the relative safety of the darkness, hoping they weren't being watched already. But if this was where Crowley was really keeping Cas and the other angels, then Dean was sure security was going to be extra tight.

"I need you to destroy those sigils on the outer walls," Anna whispered to them. "I can't get inside until you do."

"Okay, Sammy, you take care of those," Dean hissed. "I'm going to go find Cas."

"Are you crazy?" Anna grabbed his forearm, squeezing tight. Dean flinched, surprised by how strong she was. "Crowley isn't stupid. He knows you'll walk right into his trap. He'll have Cas under lock and key. You'll be dead before you get within two inches of him. Stay with Sam until I get inside and can work as a team. Cas is in there. I can sense him. I can lead us straight to him once we get inside but you need to stay alive." Dean looked like she was about to argue until she said, "For Cas." Dean immediately softened, and Anna withdrew her arm. "For once in your life, Winchester, follow an order."

Dean and Sam crept towards the warehouse, knives drawn. Before they had left, Anna had handed them each a knife which supposedly had the power to kill demons. It looked like a regular knife to Dean, but Sam said it was probably one of those things where you had to believe in it in order to make it work.

Dean was taking a lot on faith these days.

There was no one outside. Dean and Sam crept up to a back door, Dean kicking it in while Sam covered him. Two demons immediately rushed him, pushing Dean to the ground. Dean stuck his knife into the center of the man's back and his eyes flickered yellow as Dean pushed his body off of him to the ground. He did not get up. Sam took care of the other demon, slitting the man's throat before pushing him face-forward into the dirt. "Look at us," Dean breathed. "Becoming killers."

They went inside, only to be physically knocked against the wall by more demons. Dean saw people, but as per his usual fighting style, focused on one opponent at a time, concentrating on a successful kill. Recognizing the other enemies was a priority, but making sure that Sammy was okay was paramount. He sunk his knife into the guy's neck and pushed him aside, getting a glimpse of Sammy holding his own. "The sigil!" Dean yelled, as Dean was pushed back into the wall by another demon. The knife went skittering across the floor, resting under a concrete drum. Dean and the demon exchanged blows a few times before the demon grabbed Dean by the neck, pushing him against the wall. Dean kicked off the wall, headbutting the demon and knocking him back a few steps before Dean ran and dove for the knife. The demon was right after him, landing on Dean's legs and pulling him toward him. Dean was able to kick him off, his fingertips reaching for the knife. The demon was pulling Dean away, and Dean could feel the tip of his fignertips just touching the knife. He almost had it, he almost had it, he almost-

Right as he grasped the handle of the knife in his fist, the demon went flying off of him into the wall. Anna reached her hand down to him, and Dean grabbed it thankfully as she pulled him to his feet. She pulled him quickly, her lips reaching up to kiss his. Dean's eyebrows shot out with surprise and stood there, accepting the kiss. Anna finally pulled away, a small smile on her face. "Cas doesn't need to know about that."

Dean was about to respond, but the only words that came out were a sudden, "Behind you!" as Anna spun to block an attack by another demon.

"They're just going to keep coming," Anna said breathlessly as she dodged blows. Sam made their way over to them, and the three of them stood back to back, taking and delivering blows on each side. "There's too many. We need to get Cas and the others."

"Then let's go!" Dean yelled, punching a demon in the face so hard he fell back, knocking back another two. He ran over them towards the back of the factory, Anna and Sam in hot pursuit.

"Left!" Anna yelled when Dean came to a fork in the hall a few feet in front of her. As she was about to round the turn, Dean went flying past her, landing on his front. He quickly got to his feet as Ana cleared the demon from the vessel, rushing past the body and around another corner.

"Anna, wait up!" Dean called. At first Sam and Dean were able to follow the sound of Anna's footsteps down the labyrinth of hallways, but they soon began to echo from every direction, and they had no idea where she had gone.

"What are we supposed to do now?" Sam asked as they entered into a large circular room. It looked like it had been some sort of a torture room. Beds that looked like they belonged in an insane asylum lined the perimeter of the circle, chains and cuffs fastened to the corners of all the beds. The mattresses looked like they were all stained with blood, some more than others. Several metal carts containing a vast array of surgical instruments, most bloodied in some fashion, sat around the room.

"What do you think Crowley did to them?" Dean gasped, his heart plummeting into his stomach as he thought about what Cas had to endure and, for a fleeting moment, the thought crossed his mind that maybe his Cas wasn't his Cas anymore.

"That's me, always playing the bad guy," Crowley answered, stepping up behind them. Dean and Sam immediately whirled around, weapons drawn.

"Cute, the Three Musketeers all here," Crowley teased. "Although you seem to have traded in that angel in a trenchcoat for a redhead. A bit of a downgrade if you ask me, but to each their own. I bet Cas will-"

"Let him go!" Dean snarled furiously.

"Can't do that, love," Crowley replied with a shrug. "If anything, I'm helping. Those angels have so much bloatware crammed into their heads, they can't remember all the good stuff. I'm just extracting information they don't know, information they can't even dream of."

"And what are you going to do with that information, Crowley?" Sam demanded.

"Oh, you know, make sure the gates of heaven are closed forever, making sure the gates of hell are never shut, it's a business, Moose. Pay attention. The one with the most customers wins. I'm merely serving my own interests."

"We're going to get Cas," Dean said evenly. "We're going to get him, and the other angels, and we're going to get them out of here and you're going to leave them alone, or you're going to mess with us."

"Ooh, I'm quaking in my leather boots," Crowley laughed as Dean rushed toward him. He raised a hand and Dean went flying against the back wall, crashing into a tray of surgical instruments and sending them scattering to the floor as he landed. "King of Hell! Do you really think you can take me?"

"No," Sam answered smugly.

"No?" Crowley echoed, and his forehead crinkled a bit, as if he wasn't quite sure where the sudden burst of confidence came from.

"But I can." Crowley turned around to find himself face to face with Castiel. Castiel stuck a knife into Crowley's heart, twisting and watching the light flicker in his eyes wordlessly. Crowley slumped to the floor, face down, as Castiel took a few steps past him into the room.

"Cas!" Dean gasped, getting to his feet, taking a good look at his angel. Cas was almost unrecognizable. A large bloody bandage covered one side of his head, reaching from the top of his head and covering his right ear, sweeping across to the bridge of his nose to cover his eye. The rest of his face and trenchcoat were covered in blood, and the tails of his trenchcoat gave the appearance that they had almost been soaking in it. His tie was gone, and the shirt beneath the trenchcoat was ripped, frayed, and bloody. Castiel looked like he had literally just walked off the battlefield.

"Cas," Dean said comfortingly, a smile rising to his face as he saw that Castiel was okay. Castiel had a scowl etched into his face, perhaps from pain, but the corners of his mouth twisted up into a wry smile at the sight of Dean.

Sam breathed a sigh of relief, using the back of his hand to move his hair away from his face. "It's good to see you, Cas."

What happened next took only a matter of seconds. Crowley got to his feet. Dean, noticing the subtle shift of movement from behind Cas yelled his name, but it was too late. Castiel didn't even have time to turn around as Crowley got to his feet, pulled the knife out of his chest, and stabbing Cas in the back twice, effectively severing his spinal chord. "King of Hell," Crowley said with a smile before he released Cas, who slumped to his knees, eyelids drooping. Dean yelled Cas' name as he rushed forward to him.

"Be seeing you lads," Crowley said, looking over his handiwork before disappearing off into the night. Dean dropped to his knees in front of Cas, pulling the angel's head onto his shoulder.

"De-an-" Castiel whimpered, moving closer to him.

"Castiel-" Anna arrived in the doorway moments too late. "Is he-?"

"Stay away from him!" Dean yelled over Cas' shoulders, his fingers knotting in Cas' hair. "It'll be okay, Cas. Okay, you're going to be fine."

"Dean-" Cas said softly.

"Cas, you're going to be fine," Sam repeated, kneeling down next to his brother.

Cas tried to straighten up but slumped down again, his head resting on Dean's lap. Dean shifted to allow Castiel to be in a more comfortable position. "Dean, I'm starting to remember..."

"Remember?" Dean asked.

"I'm remembering...heaven," Cas gasped. "To open the gates, you need to-" There was a strangled breath and Cas' breathing hitched. His eyes rolled up as if he was staring at the ceiling, no, through the ceiling, seeing something deeper than the sandstone and concrete barrier.

"Cas!" Dean yelled, but Cas' lively blue eyes were still and flat.

"It's okay," Anna put her hand on Dean's shoulder, but Dean shrugged it off. "Dean, it's okay. Cas is up in heaven now."

Dean tore his eyes away from Cas' face to look up, imagining Cas standing up on some big, white fluffy cloud, looking down on him. He would make his way back to him. He would open the gates of Heaven and come down to see him again. He would not let this be goodbye.

 


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!! I just wanted to thank you so much for reading this story!!  
> I had a lot of extreme emotional turbulence going on while I was writing the story, so I really can't thank you all enough for your patience regarding my posting and your support. It really means the world to me, it really really does and I can't thank all of you enough. <3
> 
> \---

When Castiel opened his eyes he expected Dean to be beside him. He had spent the past few months waking up wishing Dean was beside him, but he was aware that in the grim reality they faced, being next to Dean was a danger and he had to put as much distance between him and Dean as possible. But waking up and expecting Dean to be beside him when he wasn't was so much worse.

In fact, Castiel wasn't quite sure where he was until he realized he was lying on a fresh grassy green lawn. This was the eternal Tuesday afternoon of an autistic man who drowned in a bathtub in 1953, one of Castiel's favorite heavens to visit.

"You okay?" Cas stood up and whirled around to realize that he wasn't alone. A scruffy older man with a bloodstained baseball cap stood over him, arms crossed firmly across his chest as he leaned on a tree.

"He's here," Cas spun around again to see that he was surrounded on three sides. To his left was a girl who looked like she couldn't be older than her mid-twenties, long blonde hair tumbling in wavy curls around her head. The woman who stood closer to her had shorter hair, and seemed to hover protectively over her.

"Finally," the woman echoed, looking over Cas.

"I'm Jo," the girl said tentatively, swallowing hard. "This is my mom, Ellen, and that's Bobby. We're hunters. We - we know what's going on around here, and we want to help."

"To help," Castiel repeated, smiling softly to himself. He remembered something about Dean, the memory soft and gentle, relaxing his mind. It was funny how even though Dean felt so far away, a lifetime away, just the thought of him smiling, green eyes twinkling, was enough to lift Cas' spirits.

"Yes," Jo said quietly. "Do you remember who you are? Do you remember anything?"

"Yes," Castiel said more confidently. He looked down to see that his trenchcoat was intact and he was no longer bloodied. He felt his old strength returning to him. He stretched his neck first to the right, then to the left, twisting back and forth a few times as if to get comfortable within his body. "Yes, I remember everything."

"So what do we do?" Bobby asked, stepping forward. "You need soldiers, well, here we are. And we know where to find more once we figure out what to do."

"What to do?" Castiel mused, looking around him. He took everything in, but his mind seemed to be elsewhere, on something far off.

"Yes," Jo said, almost a bit exasperated. "Yes, what do we need to do first?"

"First," Cas turned to her and smiled, his blue eyes twinkling and alive. "First we need to open the gates of Heaven." 

 

END


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